


Whispering Mysteries: The Circle

by TAFKAmayle



Series: Whispering Mysteries [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-22 15:42:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22718359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TAFKAmayle/pseuds/TAFKAmayle
Summary: Jeremy Dooley is an ex-police detective who’s turned PI to pay the bills. When a missing artifact sends him into the world of paranormal collectors, he’s forced to ask Ryan Haywood, an occult expert and fellow PI, for help on the case.TW: This fic contains a Ryan Haywood character.
Series: Whispering Mysteries [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1646938
Comments: 105
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

Jeremy was less than thrilled to be at the Haywood PI Office. He’d met Haywood only once before, on a different case. He’d arrived at the scene at the same time as Jeremy, called him a midget, then swept his leg to get to the evidence first. This was the turning point in Jeremy’s life wherein everything changed, all because Haywood shot first.

To say Jeremy hated him wouldn’t be right. He promised his mom he’d never hate anyone. _Hate leads to the dark side._ It was more like he wanted revenge and then after that they could have a decent working relationship. He understood that sometimes you do questionable shit for your job and Jeremy didn’t want to hold that against him. He didn’t _want_ to, but he was a touch bitter about it still. Just a touch.

So not happy to be waiting outside the guy’s door for him to open. He rubbed his hands over his face and checked the time just as Haywood’s head popped into view on the stairs. Jeremy watched him walked up the stairs, typing on his phone and got the bizarre urge to tell him to watch where the fuck he was going. 

“Dooley,” Haywood greeted, not looking up, “Good to meet you.”

He unlocked his office, still looking at the phone and vaguely waved Jeremy in. _Good to meet you. He doesn’t remember._ The absolute fuckhead didn’t remember nearly breaking Jeremy’s leg. _Asshole._ Haywood hung up his long coat, revealing a button up, sleeves rolled up, and a pair of pants that looked business casual without looking like they’d rip at the slightest breeze. 

Jeremy’s gayness was on high alert as he stared at the guy’s ass as he followed him to a desk. Jeremy sat across the desk from him and after a moment Haywood put his phone down to finally look at him. 

“We’ve met before,” he noted, squinting at Jeremy, “I always remember a pretty face.”

Jeremy went red all over as Haywood winked with a smirk.

“Um, y-yes, th-the Morrison ca-case,” Jeremy squeaked, “You, uh, n-nearly broke m-my leg.”

He was looking everywhere but Haywood.

“I didn’t,” Haywood dismissed, “I know what I’m doing. I know how to lay someone out without breaking anything.”

Jeremy couldn’t help but try to throw a glare at the man, but it fizzled into embarrassment at the wicked grin the guy was giving him.

“You want me to teach you?” He offered, voice low, “I’d love to show you how it’s done.”

He winked again and Jeremy thought he might faint. His heart was pounding where it had leapt up into his throat and he thought he could feel every bead of sweat on him. Not to mention his pants were embarrassingly tight. 

_Fuck, he’s coming on really strong._ Haywood’s eyes were looking him up and down now and Jeremy felt naked. Felt like the guy could see every part of him. Haywood’s tongue darted out, licking his lips as his eyes landed on Jeremy’s crotch. Jeremy thought he was going to explode. Before he could cry “please, teach me” at a no doubt embarrassing volume and pitch, the door burst open. 

Jeremy went for his gun, turning, but his gun wasn’t there. _Right. I don’t have that any more._ He eyed the intruder suspiciously, but they looked unarmed. And sweaty. _Jesus, they don’t look too good._ Jeremy rushed over to catch them as they fell. They were panting horribly, wheezing, struggling to breathe. 

_Asthma._ Jeremy fumbled in his pocket as Haywood joined them. He pulled out his spare inhaler and shook it. He popped the cap off and put it in their mouth which closed around it instinctively. 

“Breathe,” he ordered as he pressed.

They pulled in the spray. Jeremy counted out ten seconds.

“Out,” he instructed as he pulled the inhaler away.

They puffed out a long breath. 

“Th-Thank you!” The gasped shakily.

“Easy does it, buddy,” Jeremy soothed, “You’re lucky I was here. _Where_ is your inhaler?”

The guy coughed a bit looking away. Jeremy clicked his tongue.

“Did you give it to Gavin again?” Haywood grumbled, “What did I tell you about that?”

The guy looked sufficiently scolded, ducking his head.

“Do _you_ have his spare?” Jeremy asked, looking up at Haywood.

“Er, I had one awhile ago,” he muttered, looking away.

Jeremy narrowed his eyes at him.

“If you take a spare inhaler,” he informed tightly, “You need to know where it is and be ready to help him use it.”

“He gave me that thing like a year ago!” Haywood argued, “How the fuck am I supposed to remember where it is?”

“But you remember a pretty face?” Jeremy bit out coldly.

Haywood went pink, looking away. Jeremy rolled his eyes and looked down at the guy who was staring at him in awe. 

“I’m Det-uh, Jeremy Dooley, by the way,” he greeted cheerfully, “Anyway, do you need another dose?”

“Um, no, I think I’m okay,” the guy answered, “I’m Michael. Michael Jones.”

Jeremy’s eyes went wide as he suddenly recognized the man.

“No way!” He exclaimed, grabbing his face, “Oh, you’re way cuter than I thought! Pictures don’t do you justice!”

Michael AKA _Mogar the fucking Bounty Hunter_ blushed and batted his hands away.

“Fl-flattery w-won’t get you anywhere,” he muttered.

Jeremy backed off, raising his hands in surrender.

“Sorry, sorry!” He apologized, “But I’m selling this on eBay!”

He wiggled the inhaler with a grin. Michael’s eyes narrowed and he made to grab for it, but Jeremy held it out of reach, laughing.

“Listen here, little shit!” Michael sneered, “I will rip out your fucking throat! Gimme that!”

He reached again, but Jeremy just passed it to his other hand.

“Liar!” He laughed, “Mogar only brings in live targets!”

_“You_ are not a target,” Michael pointed out, coiling like a cat ready to pounce.

The inhaler was snatched from Jeremy’s hand by Haywood who scowled down at them.

“If you’re quite done flirting,” he growled, “Dooley was here for a reason. Go home, _Mogar.”_

“As if you didn’t flirt with him first, V-“ Michael started taunting.

He was interrupted by Haywood clearing his throat. Michael stood up, looking a bit shaken and offered Jeremy a hand up, which he took. 

“Nice meeting you,” he muttered, shaking Jeremy’s hand, “Here, so we can flirt in private.”

He flicked out a business card from seemingly nowhere and once Jeremy (only blushing a little) took it, was out the door. Jeremy tucked it into his wallet and turned to get back to the meeting to find Haywood’s chest in his face. Jeremy looked up at him in surprise, backing up a step. Haywood followed him backing up until he hit the wall with a grunt. Haywood leaned down, bracing one hand on the wall.

“Where were we?” He commented breezily, “I think you were about to beg me for something, wasn’t it?”

Jeremy’s body flushed with embarrassment and arousal.

“N-no!” He protested, “D-definitely not!”

Haywood smirked at him and leaned closer to talk in his ear.

“You sure about that, Detective Dooley?” He whispered, lips brushing Jeremy’s ear, “Because as I recall, you were looking mighty needy.”

Jeremy’s stomach clenched.

“You _do_ remember the case,” he grunted, “Why did you act like you forgot?”

“I have no Earthly idea what you’re talking about,” Haywood answered, pulling back a bit.

“Then how did you know I’m a detective?” Jeremy demanded, before correcting himself, “Er, _was_ a detective.”

“What, is it a secret?” Haywood scoffed, straightening out a bit, “You went for your service weapon. Then you almost introduced yourself as Detective Dooley. And I’ve never seen a regular citizen of Los Santos with _such_ a massive stick up their ass.”

Jeremy threw a punch that distracted Haywood from the slap he sent with his other hand. Haywood stared off to the side for a second in surprise.

“You don’t know shit,” Jeremy snarled, pushing off the wall.

Haywood’s head snapped back to look at him as he stepped forward. Haywood stepped back and they mirrored the same dance they’d just performed until Haywood bumped into his desk. He stared at Jeremy with wide eyes as his hands moved to brace himself against the edge of the desk.

“I suggest you do better research, Sherlock,” Jeremy sneered, “Maybe look up the Morrison case and find out why you owe me.”

He pulled the flash drive from his coat and leaned close to Haywood to reach around him and drop it on his desk. Haywood’s breathing was quick and his pupils were dilated as he stared at Jeremy. Jeremy gripped his collar, yanking him down to speak in his ear.

“Who’s the needy one now?” He whispered.

Then he let go and left the building. _Piece of shit._


	2. Chapter 2

Jeremy sighed at his phone. Obviously he knew he was going to have to actually work with Haywood, but that didn’t mean he wanted to get a call from him. He only knew the unknown number was Haywood because he’d just texted him “This is Haywood, I’m calling you in a minute.” He rolled his eyes and answered the phone.

“Couldn’t just text me?” he grunted.

“And miss the opportunity to hear your lovely voice?” Haywood chirped, “Not a chance!”

Jeremy hated that he blushed.

“Great,” he muttered, “Why did you call?”

“Your case, of course,” Haywood answered, tone dropping to business mode, “Your stolen item, the relic. You’ve asked me on the case because of my expertise with the occult, correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” Jeremy confirmed, “I’ve unfortunately hit a dead end. I can’t find anything connected to the relic.”

“Yes, because you’re looking at it wrong,” Haywood answered, “Meet me at the history museum on sixth in an hour.”

“Do I need anything?” Jeremy prompted, already getting up to gather clothes for a shower.

“No, just your cute ass,” Haywood teased, “That’s the part I-“

Jeremy hung up. _Fucking asshole._ His face burned as he got his clothes together. Haywood’s flirting was going to take some getting used to. 

“No, no no!” He corrected himself, “No getting used to Haywood! Punch him in the face instead.”

~

An hour later, Jeremy was looking up at the glass dome in the museum ceiling when a hand landed on his shoulder. He reacted before he could think “oh that must be Haywood” and sent the man to the ground. He immediately let go, backing up.

“Fuck, sorry!” He hissed, “Are you okay?”

Haywood took his offered hand and stood. He dusted off his overcoat before he said anything.

“How the hell did I ever knock you down?” He grunted, “Anyway, as much as I’d like to skip to the laying out part-“

Jeremy rolled his eyes.

“-we still have to actually _go_ on the date,” Haywood finished with a grin and a wink.

“I will knock your ass out,” Jeremy grumbled, “Will you go Sherlock Holmes mode already and tell me what this is about?”

“Ah, yes, the relic,” Haywood answered, snapping into business voice, “This way.”

He waved and smiled pleasantly at the front desk clerk as they passed by and Jeremy wondered why they got in free. Apparently Haywood was one of _those_ detectives. _He really is Sherlock Holmes,_ Jeremy thought bitterly. _That makes me John Watson! Fucking lame! What did Watson ever do for the cases? Beside shoot things, patch him up, and bang him._ Jeremy wasn’t banging Holmes, no fucking way. And he could patch himself up for all he cared. _And also I don’t have a fucking gun any more! Fuck this analogy!_

“Here we are!” Haywood announced, “This is what you didn’t see.”

Jeremy turned to where he was gesturing. A large display of carved stones was on the wall, all fitting neatly together despite their rough edges. They were old carvings, made with a chisel no doubt as there was no sanded finish. The carvings on the rocks themselves also seemed to slot together. However, there were several pieces missing.

“You see-“ Haywood began as Jeremy grasped the point.

“Yeah, I got it,” Jeremy interrupted, “It’s not a full relic, it’s a piece. But my relic doesn’t fit here, do you know where it goes?”

He looked up at Haywood who was squinting at the display.

“I...thought it went here,” he admitted, going pink.

Jeremy pulled out his phone to open the picture of the relic and handed it to Haywood. The man held the phone up, looking between it and the missing pieces on the display.

“You’re right,” he begrudgingly muttered, as he handed the phone back, “I was hasty in my assumption.”

_And Watson scores a point! I’m on the board now, fucker!_

“So do you know where any more are?” Jeremy prompted.

He moved to take a picture of the display and then stepped towards it to take a picture of the piece that matched his.

“There’s a few in San Andreas,” Haywood answered, “I believe a few are in private collections-“

“Best start there,” they spoke together.

They looked at each other in surprise and then away.

“Er, right,” Jeremy mumbled, “Don’t suppose you have any connections with these private collectors?”

“Eh, a few,” Haywood replied, breezily, “I know one private collector very well. He’s our best start. He’ll have heard buzz about it if any of them have it.”

“Cool.”

There was a moment of silence as they looked at the relic.

“What’s it mean?” Jeremy asked, gesturing, “The writing?”

Haywood looked down at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What makes you think it’s writing?” He countered.

Jeremy frowned at him before looking back.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He grunted, “The symbols repeat. Especially that one.”

He leaned forward to point at the squiggly little symbol.

“Which I’m guessing is the period,” he added, “Or their version, anyway. Since there aren’t any spaces.”

He looked back at Haywood who was still just staring at him. Jeremy blushed.

“Um, am I wrong?” He grumbled, “You don’t have to stare at me like I’m an idiot. Just say it.”

This snapped Haywood out of it and he looked back at the relic.

“You’re right,” he finally spoke, “It is writing and the Ray symbol is their version of the period.”

“Ray like the sun?” Jeremy interrupted.

“Yes, like the sun,” Haywood confirmed, sounding amused, “It says “Two hearts of one brought here to bleed. Send heart away and the one will rise. Mind body and heart.”

Jeremy raised his eyebrows.

“You know it even with the missing pieces,” he commented, “Not a bad memory after all.”

He grinned up at him and Haywood snorted.

“You’re a midget,” he grunted.

“I am not!” Jeremy argued, “Old man.”

Haywood leaned over to speak in his ear.

“Should I bend you over my knee, little boy?” He whispered, “And teach you some manners?”

Jeremy flushed. _Little boy. Fuck you, dickbag._

“I think you’re the one who needs a lesson,” Jeremy fired back.

Haywood pulled back a bit, looking surprised again. And pink. Jeremy gripped his collar and yanked him down.

“Do you want me to spank you, little boy?” He growled lowly in his ear.

Jeremy felt the tremor that went through Haywood and his dick was suddenly fully erect. Jeremy let him go and turned back to the relic before he could make a stupid mistake.

“So then what’s the cryptic riddle mean?” He prompted, looking at the round relic, “Cause I gotta say, this whole thing reeks of some form of alchemy or something. Two into one and all that.”

“Alchemy?” Haywood scoffed, “That’s what you came up with?”

Jeremy flashed him a glare.

“The alchemy symbols for Mercury-“

He pointed to where it was carved to the left.

“-Salt-“

He pointed upward, where the symbol was half missing.

“-and Sulfur.”

He pointed to the right where the very edge could be seen.

“Mind, body, soul,” they spoke together again.

Jeremy raised an eyebrow at him.

“So you never made the connection?” He prompted.

“No, I haven’t studied this relic very closely,” He admitted, shrugging, “It’s not very interesting.”

He paused, rubbing his face. _Another point for Watson! Try to keep up, old man._

“Well, I think I’ve made an ass of myself again,” he muttered, “Assuming things.”

“It’s hard to make one of yourself when you already are one,” Jeremy pointed out, grinning at him.

Haywood laughed. The sound almost startled Jeremy into jumping. Breathy, sort of raspy. Jeremy couldn’t help but chuckle with him. _He’s...pretty. Fucking bastard._


	3. Chapter 3

“Do I have to?” Jeremy grumbled, “Why can’t you just go in and talk and come back?”

Haywood rolled his eyes.

“He likes new things,” he answered, “I have to bring him something shiny that appeals to him.”

“But I don’t have anything,” Jeremy protested.

Haywood sighed, pressing his hands together.

“You’ll see when we get in,” he muttered, “Can’t you trust me on this?”

He turned his sharp eyes on Jeremy.

“Fuck no,” Jeremy answered, “But I guess I don’t have much of a choice if I want to get info from this asshole. If this ends up being something really shady, you’re in trouble.”

Haywood flashed him a cheeky grin and Jeremy got a feeling he knew he was going to be in trouble. They entered the building and Jeremy was stunned by the place immediately. It had huge, sweeping ceilings, two large chandeliers, pristine white floors, and art lined that the walls. _Wow, a washed up detective does not belong here._ Jeremy wandered to one of the walls to look at the art while Haywood talked to whoever would summon the king of this castle. 

The first one that caught his eye was a burning scene. He leaned in close to try to see exactly what was burning, but he could only see vague shapes. There was something odd about the painting. He frowned. It was like he was looking at it wrong, like he was only seeing the shadow of it. He stepped back and leaned to the right. Hm, it looked a bit different from that angle. More blurry shapes. He leaned left. Again, a bit different. He stood up on tip toes, but still only saw a slight difference. 

That really only left leaning down, which he did. The image began to become clearer. _Whoa._ He needed to be lower though, to see the whole thing. Needed to be on his knees. _Interesting._ He knelt down and looked up at the painting. _Holy fucking shit. How the hell did they do that?!_

It was a face, on fire. But not in agony. It seemed more like it caused others agony. Like it was the source of the fire. It was almost skull like, the skin stretched thin over the bone underneath, the nose and lips nearly completely gone while only one empty eye socket was visible. 

“Holy shit balls,” he whispered, “That’s so tight.”

“You think so?” An unknown voice asked from beside him, “Most people don’t agree.”

Jeremy looked up at the man who had joined him. He was wearing a full tuxedo, had hand and arm tattoos visible just past the sleeves, a cane with a jewel on the top, and a curly mustache as the cherry on top of the “I’m crazy” look. He had blue eyes looking sharply right at Jeremy. Softer than Haywood’s, but calculating, searching, evaluating. Like Jeremy was a piece of art he was debating about as the curator of a museum. Jeremy looked back at the painting, considering what the guy had said.

“I’d say most people don’t see it,” Jeremy muttered, “I’m short as fuck and still had to get on my knees.”

The guy snorted.

“I guess most people don’t like to get on their knees,” Jeremy offered, shrugging.

“But _you_ like it?” The man prompted.

He looked extremely amused and Jeremy rolled his eyes.

“Well, it doesn’t really matter,” He answered, “I can kick your ass from here just as good as when I’m standing. At least down here I get to see this wicked painting... That _someone_ had to spend days on their knees creating.”

The man laughed, sounding utterly delighted and offered Jeremy a hand up. Jeremy took it with a wary look and looked at the painting again. 

“Are a lot of the paintings like this?” He asked, glancing around.

“I’m afraid not,” the man answered, “Unfortunately this artist only painted a few masterpieces before he quit.”

“Before he quit _selling_ them,” Jeremy corrected.

He looked at the guy whose eyebrows were up.

“You are an interesting man,” he mused, “Didn’t expect such an interesting conversation from the pretty boy on his knees.”

He grinned widely and Jeremy blushed.

“Oh boy,” he muttered, “There’s two of them.”

_Speaking of._ He looked around for Haywood and frowned when he couldn’t find him. He turned back to the man whose grin seemed to get almost evil.

“Where’s my-“ Jeremy started, stopping himself, “Where’s Haywood?” 

“Oh, I sent him ahead,” the man assured him, “He’s in my office. Wait, no, he’s probably in the stairwell by now. I wanted to meet the new toy alone. And I have to say I’m impressed by you, little toy. You’re not what I expected at all.”

Jeremy’s guts burned and he spun into a roundhouse that took the man completely off guard, sending him stumbling. 

“I am _not_ a toy,” Jeremy growled.

Suddenly, a door burst open and Jeremy looked up in surprise to see Haywood sprinting at them. He braced for impact, but it was the mustached man that got tackled to the ground. 

“Geoff, I will end your fucking bloodline!” Haywood snarled, “What the hell did I tell you about tricking me?!”

The man-Geoff apparently-howled in laughter as Haywood got up and dusted himself off. He turned to Jeremy.

“Did you get a hit in?” He asked casually.

“He roundhoused me right in the head!” Geoff offered way too cheerfully for man saying what he just said.

“Excellent,” Haywood answered.

He started to turn back to Geoff when his eyes landed on the painting behind Jeremy. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Geoff who shook his head and waved a hand as if to bat away whatever it was Haywood was thinking at him. Jeremy glanced at the painting to read the title and artist. Artist: unknown, title: Vagabond. 

Jeremy pictured the face as he turned back to Haywood. _Oh, I see. Vagabond._ That sounded familiar. Important, but Jeremy couldn’t remember why. He eyed Haywood as he scolded Geoff for being a tool. The man was apparently a fucking artistic genius. _Of course._ _Fucking asshole._

“Dooley,” Haywood greeted, snapping him from his thoughts, “This is Geoff Ramsey. He’s the collector I told you about.”

Jeremy’s brain clicked and he glared at Haywood. _Something shiny?!_

“You-!” He snapped, “I’m gonna murder you!”

Haywood frowned, taken aback and Geoff’s eyebrows tried to meet his hairline as he looked back and forth between them. Jeremy’s vengeance would be horrifying. He turned to Geoff and held out his hand to shake. He opened his mouth to introduce himself as they shook hands.

“This is Dooley, he’s a PI as well,” Haywood cut him off, “He’s investigating a missing piece of a Carver’s Circle.”

Jeremy cut him a cold look at speaking for him, but figured he’d just add that to the destructive vengeance list.

“Hm, that’s not surprising, actually,” Geoff answered, “I’m missing a piece of mine too.”

Jeremy got his phone out to show him his missing piece.

“Did it look like this?” He pressed.

Geoff leaned in, squinting at it.

“No, that’s not the piece,” he dismissed, “I’ll show you the circle, come on.”

He led the way and Jeremy scowled at Haywood who scowled back.

“What?!” He hissed.

“I said nothing shady!” Jeremy whispered back.

Haywood flashed him a smirk and Jeremy felt a sense of unending dread start to fill him.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” He grumbled under his breath.

“Your cup runneth over, Dooley,” Haywood quipped back.

“You are in so much trouble!” Jeremy hissed.

Haywood glanced at him and swallowed, looking a bit nervous. He gave a sheepish smile, but Jeremy just glared at him. _I am so close to hating him right now. I could really hate this man. Sorry, ma, I know I said I’d never hate anyone, but that was before I knew I’d end up finding the worst human being on the planet._

“Weapons?” Geoff grunted.

They’d stopped in front of an elevator. Jeremy frowned. _Weapons?_ He watched as Haywood unclipped a holster and held it out. Geoff rolled his eyes and pushed it back at him.

“Not _you,_ jackass,” he grumbled, “Your t-I mean, your partner.”

“Not partners,” they growled together.

They glared at each other while Geoff considered shooting himself. _I’m too old for this shit._

“Dooley, weapons or not?” He snapped, “I don’t have all day for your shitty romantic subplot!”

Jeremy started to argue, but just gave up and shook his head.

“No weapons,” he muttered, “Not since- _Fuck!_ Haywood!”

He scowled at Haywood and shoved the guy’s boot off his. Haywood was giving him a sharp look. _What the fuck is his damage?!_ Geoff grumbled to himself as he gestured them onto the elevator. Jeremy glared at Haywood awhile before finally catching up. Shady shit. Geoff was a full on criminal. And there was no way he’d give information to a pig. He went back to glaring at Haywood. _You are in so much fucking trouble after this!_

The elevator stopped, breaking him from his death glare and they stepped out into a basement filled with...stuff? Some of it he could see was art, but a lot of it was in wooden crates, blocking what exactly it was. 

“The Ark of the Covenant is in here,” he muttered.

Haywood laughed just as someone came screeching around the corner.

“Geoff! Who’s- _Rye-bread!”_ A screaming voice said as it tackled Haywood.

“Since when are you happy to see Ryan?” Geoff scoffed.

_Are they...friends with Haywood?_ Jeremy wondered as Haywood peeled the squawking one off of him. Haywood didn’t seem like he actually had friends per se.

“Wot?! Ry is my friend!” The man protested, now at a shriek pitch that Jeremy could understand as a British accent, “We’re mates, right Ry?”

“What do you want?” Haywood grumbled.

“Tsk, I don’t _always_ want something!” The squawker argued, “But since you asked... could you help me out with something? Pretty please? I’ll suck you off afterwards!”

Jeremy and Haywood both went scarlet, though they were facing different directions. Meanwhile Geoff howled with laughter again. 

“Wot?! Wot’s wrong?!” 

“G-Gavin, meet Dooley,” Haywood grunted through his teeth, moving to gesture at Jeremy.

Now that they could properly see each other, the two froze, staring wide-eyed. All the burning in Jeremy’s face was now from his own encounter with the man. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“J-Jeremy,” he mumbled, “Nice to meet you, Gavin.”

“N-Nice to meet y-you, Jeremy,” Gavin answered, “Um, anyway, will you help me Ry?”

“We’re here for something else,” Haywood insisted.

“I-it can wait,” Jeremy offered, “If you want to help your friend. I’m not waiting for the end of a blowjob though.”

Haywood cleared his throat, stifling a laugh and Gavin just got redder.

“Well, then why don’t we just split the party?” Geoff suggested.

_Never split the party,_ Jeremy thought. But he followed Geoff while Gavin dragged Haywood off. _Jesus, Gavin._ Also known as the Golden Key in certain circles. As in, that’s what LSPD called him. He could open any door, window, safe, and lock, physical or digital. Including Jeremy’s pants.  Well, technically he was undercover under the name Barry. So he unlocked _Barry’s_ pants. 

He was just supposed to get him alone, make out a bit and then make off with some of his hair. He definitely wasn’t supposed to have the most amazing blowjob of his entire life, but fuck, he had been _very_ convincing at the time. And just between Jeremy and the lab guys, GK’s semen was better for DNA than his hair anyway. Though he could’ve sworn his voice was deeper and definitely not British. But with a voice like a dying bird, he supposed you should disguise it. 

“Here we are,” Geoff announced, gesturing at the display of the circle.

Jeremy looked up at it, eyes running over the pieces. Not complete, missing some pieces. He still had the one Jeremy was looking for. His was different from the museum’s though. Something a bit off about it. 

“Dooley, I have a question for you,” Geoff spoke right his ear, “Did Ryan tell you why he brought you in here?”

Jeremy’s heart rate picked up.

“You like new things,” he muttered, “He said he needed something shiny to appeal to you.”

Geoff chuckled.

“So you came here to wiggle your cute ass for me?” He taunted, still in his ear.

Jeremy shivered.

“I...didn’t know what he meant,” he grumbled, “He didn’t specify.”

“One last question,” Geoff murmured, “How’d you fuck Gavin?”

Jeremy blushed.

“I-it was that ob-obvious?” He sputtered.

“Pretty obvious,” Geoff laughed, “Tell me. How’d you do him?”

Jeremy covered his face.

“I’m surrounded by perverts!” He groaned miserably.

“You’re in LS with an ass like that,” Geoff scoffed, “What’d you expect?”

Jeremy shot him a glare. _I’d like to amend my previous statement. **This** is the worst human being on the planet._ Geoff grinned and winked at him.

“You don’t have to,” he assured him, “I’ll just ask Gavin.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes and looked back at the circle. _Same story, different angles._ The pieces slotted together correctly, but they were from different sets. Jeremy stepped back to take a picture of it, but was stopped by Geoff’s hand on his phone.

“No can do, buddy,” he lamented, shrugging, “No evidence.”

_Great, they’re stolen._ Jeremy flipped to the museum circle. 

“Are any of these the piece you lost?” He asked, offering his phone to Geoff, “Not the exact one, of course.”

Geoff zoomed and scrolled a bit, frowning before he found it.

“There it is,” he said, passing the phone back, “The one with half the Mercury symbol on it. And it wasn’t lost. It was definitely stolen.”

Jeremy screen-capped the piece before putting his phone away.

“Any idea who it was?” He prompted, “Surely you have security out the ass here.”

“We do, we do,” Geoff grunted, “But this little shit found a way in. We’re still not a hundred percent sure how. But he left a card.”

Jeremy frowned.

“What, like a calling card?” He scoffed.

Geoff shook his head, shrugging and reached in his pocket. 

“Here, it’s got the Creator language as with the circles,” He muttered, “We were planning on calling Ry, actually since we don’t know what it says.”

“Right, and he’s a PI,” Jeremy added, taking the card.

“Uh, right,” Geoff muttered.

Jeremy was too busy trying to read the card to notice the slight hint of nervousness to Geoff’s voice. _Let’s see. This symbol is probably mind, body, or heart. It’s in the last sentence on the circle. And there’s another that’s in that sentence._ And of course the period was there, but Jeremy wasn’t sure about any of the others. Maybe he should ask Haywood to teach him. 

“Can I take a picture of this at least?” He grumbled, flipping it over to check the back. 

“Nah, just keep it,” Geoff dismissed, “We were going to give it to Ry anyway.”

Jeremy tucked it away and looked back at the circle. Cobbled together. Someone else was doing the same. But why not take several pieces you need from one circle? Especially if you’re already cobbling it together. Unless... they’re simply collecting the pieces that fit one particular set.

“Did the stolen one come from the same place as any of these?” Jeremy asked, gesturing, “Or was it a singular acquisition?”

“Singular,” Geoff confirmed, “We only have two pieces that we got singularly. That one and this one here with the sulphur symbol.”

_That belongs in the museum,_ Jeremy realized. _Nothing I can really do about it though._

“Haywood said you’re pretty high on the food chain with private collectors,” Jeremy commented, “Have you heard anything about other missing pieces?”

“No, not yet anyway,” Geoff grunted, “Collectors can be real tight-lipped. I’ll let Ry know if I do hear anything. Any more questions, _detective?”_

_That’s a joke. Please be a joke. I’m in the fucking lion’s den right now._

“Let me just get out my pad to consult my notes,” Jeremy joked, “Just one more.”

He stepped closer to Geoff, leaning up to his ear.

“How did _you_ fuck Gavin?” He whispered.

Geoff shuddered and Jeremy took the picture he was aiming for.

“That obvious, huh?” Geoff chuckled nervously.

“Pretty obvious,” Jeremy confirmed, stepping back, “Now can you show me out of this maze?”

Geoff laughed, going back the way they came. He started pointing out all sorts of illegal things on their way out that Jeremy’s pig brain flared sirens at like it was going into meltdown. They took a longer route than they had previously and by the end Jeremy realized Geoff was showing off. He turned a smug grin at Jeremy as they reached the elevator. This was where Jeremy was meant to compliment him.

“Well, you got a lot of space,” he deadpanned, looking around.

Geoff’s smirk blinked into a scowl and Jeremy nearly burst out laughing in his face. 

“So are we waiting on Haywood now or what?” He questioned.

Geoff looked like he’d been scorned and he sorta had. He also looked like he was going to strangle someone. Jeremy hoped it wasn’t him. He pulled out a phone and called someone. Jeremy wondered if he was calling for a victim. He looked enough like a movie villain to warrant that.

“Gavin!” He barked, “Tell Ryan to get his dick back in his pants and get over here.”

He hung up and Jeremy rolled his eyes. He felt like he already aged ten years coming here. Haywood showed up finally while Geoff stewed about being called unimpressive. _Bet he has a tiny dick too,_ Jeremy thought, even though he knew that was petty and rude. When they got in Haywood’s car, the guy suddenly grabbed his elbow. Jeremy glared at him.

“Did he touch you?” He demanded.

“What? No!” Jeremy scoffed, yanking his arm from his grip, “You wouldn’t have recognized him if he had. And might I add, _you_ brought me as eye-candy! What did you expect?? Did you not consider he might want to touch me, you massive dickbag?!”

Haywood seemed agitated, but didn’t answer. Jeremy just rolled his eyes.

“Just tell me next time, give me warning at least,” he muttered as he pulled the card from his pocket, “Anyway, the thief left a calling card. It’s in the Carver language, Creator language, Geoff called it. You should teach me if we’re going to see it a lot.”

Haywood took the card. 

“Two bodies, one heart,” he read, flipping it over, “Worthless for now.”

“Damn,” Jeremy grunted, “That’s all I really had. Well, and why the pieces are being taken. Oh and Geoff _is_ a tool, you were right.”

Haywood laughed and Jeremy felt some of the tension leave his body and the air around him. He started the car and pulled out.

“Alright, Holmes, lay it on me,” Haywood prompted, “Why are the pieces being taken?”

Jeremy raised his eyebrows at him.

“Oh, I thought you’d already...” He mumbled, before interrupting himself by clearing his throat, “Um, they’re trying to piece together a specific set. I realized when I was looking at Geoff’s.”

He got the photo open to show Haywood as they stopped at a stop sign. Haywood looked impressed.

“You convinced him to let you take a picture?!” He demanded.

Jeremy cleared his throat nervously, blushing a bit.

“Uh, no,” he answered, a bit nervous, “Anyway, his pieces are a hodgepodge of different sets, but the one that was taken was one of the only two he’d gotten singularly. The other one belongs to the museum set.”

“You’re saying it-“ Haywood started.

“Belongs in a museum, yes!” Jeremy interrupted, “Will you pay attention?!”

“I pay attention to everything your pretty mouth does,” Haywood teased, winking.

“I’m gonna hurl,” Jeremy answered dryly, “Anyway, I think they want one specific circle. So they won’t be after any of the museum sets, unless-“

“-one of the museum sets is the one they’re going off of,” Haywood finished for him, “I’d have to double check with our missing pieces. Or here, you can do that now.”

He pulled out his phone and opened the photos, handing it to Jeremy. Three museum sets. First one had one of the pieces, the second one had both, and the third one was made from noticeably different rock.

“Geoff has a few pieces of all of these,” Jeremy grumbled as he handed the phone back.

“Indiana Dooley has a terrible ring to it,” Haywood commented.

“They do actually belong in those museums though!” Jeremy protested, “Fuck you, man! You’re telling me it doesn’t bother you that all these sets are incomplete?!”

Haywood started humming the Indiana Jones music and Jeremy glared at him. _Ma, how am I supposed to **not** hate this guy?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mayle’s writing bingo: Mark off “someone calls Jeremy a toy” and “Jeremy roundhouses someone”! XD  
> 


	4. Chapter 4

Jeremy sighed as he shuffled through paperwork on his coffee table. Haywood had given him a massive amount of research on the relics and Jeremy wondered why he didn’t just send him links via text. _We have the technology,_ he thought bitterly.

But he _had_ managed to catch up somewhat, learning quite a lot about the circles. He had a basic understanding of the Creator language now as well. It’d only been a day or so, but he was a lot more confident about the case now.

His phone lit up. His face dropped into his hands and he wallowed in misery for a moment before picking it up. As he suspected, it was Haywood.

Haywood: _What are you doing tonight?_

Jeremy took a picture of his research-laden coffee table and sent it in response. 

Haywood: _Great, I have something to show you. What’s your address?_

Jeremy automatically answered before realizing it was probably not a good idea to give the creepy pervert his address. He sighed, rubbing his eyes and getting up to make coffee. It was about finished when the doorbell rang. He opened the door. Haywood was in his usual working outfit and Jeremy suddenly felt underdressed in his own house.

“If the something you’re showing me is your dick, I will break your face.”

Haywood grinned.

“Tempting, but no,” he assured him, “I’ll show you that too if you’re a good boy and ask nicely.”

He winked and Jeremy rolled his eyes, ignoring the blush on his face. He left him to come in on his own and returned to his kitchen for his coffee. Haywood followed close behind him.

“How do you take coffee?” Jeremy asked, as he reached up for a second mug.

“I don’t,” Haywood answered, “I don’t like coffee.”

“It would never work between us,” Jeremy grunted, as he closed the cupboard.

He took his coffee to the living room and sat, gesturing for Haywood to do the same. 

“So the fuck you want?” He grumbled.

“Other than you?” Haywood teased before turning serious, “I got a call from Geoff. He said he had another collector asking about missing pieces.”

Jeremy sat up straighter as Haywood opened his phone.

“She’s another questionable collector,” he muttered, “Here’s her circle.”

Jeremy looked at the circle. It was cobbled together like Geoff’s, but far more complete.

“She had five pieces stolen,” Haywood went on, “But one of the pieces from the same circle wasn’t taken. She had six, they took five.”

“They left one behind?” Jeremy grunted, “But why? They need all the pieces if they want to complete it.”

Haywood switched the photo to a close up of one of the pieces. Jeremy grabbed the phone in surprise.

“That’s my piece!” He exclaimed,  “Well, the Clarks’ piece. Wait, so she took the Clark piece and then our calling card thief took hers. They must not have known it was stolen. She did have a calling card, right?”

He looked at Haywood who nodded.

“I don’t know what it says, unfortunately,” he grumbled, “But we’ve been summoned to her majesty’s castle. Apparently she has a big event happening tonight and was sent an anonymous gift that has her worried the thief will be coming back in the business of the party.”

Jeremy groaned miserably.

“Great,” he muttered, “Now I’m going to be a fucking bodyguard.”

“Nope, we’re just there to protect the last piece,” Haywood assures him, “But she wants us to try and catch the thief, not just protect the piece.”

Jeremy threw him an annoyed look.

“So I’m a _security_ guard,” he corrected, still as miserable.

“The good news is, she’s going to pay us,” Haywood assured him cheerfully, “And it’s technically a date.”

Jeremy wanted to throttle him. He heaved out a huge sigh and slumped forward a bit, staring at the coffee table. 

“Hey Dooley,” Haywood spoke right in his ear, “You look pretty stressed out. I know a way of releasing some tension.”

Jeremy grabbed his face, his hand covering Haywood’s mouth. Haywood stared wide-eyed at him in surprise. Jeremy pulled him down so he could speak in his ear. 

“You’re a pretty cocky little boy,” He growled, “Did you forget how much trouble you’re already in?”

Haywood shuddered and his face blushed under Jeremy’s hand.

“I thought I’d be lenient,” Jeremy continued, “I was in a decent mood having a good lead, but here you are, ass in the air, begging me to punish you.”

Haywood’s eyelids fluttered and he groaned into Jeremy hand. Jeremy wanted him. Wanted him so bad he could taste it. Wanted to bend him over and fuck him all over the mountain of research he’d given him. Wanted to destroy him. But a lightbulb suddenly blinked into life in his head. He released Haywood and fumbled through the mountain.

“What? What is it?” Haywood asked, “What did you figure out?”

“This!” Jeremy exclaimed triumphantly.

He pulled the paper free of the stack and showed it to Haywood.

“The first Carver’s Circle?” Haywood muttered, “What about-oh! That’s the Circle they’re after! The original.”

“The theory is that the others were copies,” Jeremy explained, “They want the real deal. But I think it’s deeper than that. There’s rumors that the original one is the only one that can do the ritual right.”

“Definitely, they’re after something deeper,” Haywood agreed, “Why bother with the calling cards if they were just like any other collector?”

“They‘re going to try to do the ritual,” Jeremy muttered, grabbing the thick book from the table, “Which is bad fucking news. Supposedly something gets created, some sort of homunculi, at the cost of human life.”

He twisted the book on his lap to show Haywood who leaned over to look at it. Jeremy’s gayness tingled as Haywoods face hovered near his, looking down at the book. _He’s so beautiful._ Jeremy wanted to touch his hair suddenly. Haywood turned to look at him and went pink. Jeremy’s heart pounded in his throat as he leaned towards him, his eyes flicking to Haywood’s lips.

“W-we should, uh, get r-ready,” Haywood muttered, suddenly standing, “I’ll send you the address. Formal wear of course.”

Then he was gone, slamming the door behind him. Jeremy covered his face, falling back on the couch.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered, “What am I doing?!”

~

“A masquerade, are you serious?” Jeremy grunted, “What is this, a movie??”

“If it was, then I’d get the girl in the end,” Haywood spoke up as they ascended the stairs up to the front entrance, “Or I suppose, the boy in this case.”

He flashed a cocky smirk and a wink at Jeremy which made him blush and almost miss a step. Haywood laughed and Jeremy smacked his arm.

“Fucking asshole,” he muttered.

They stopped at the front entrance and Jeremy looked up at it in awe. Wow, Haywood hadn’t been kidding. It basically was a castle. It had big gargoyle knockers on two large black doors. Before he could ask if they should knock, the right door creaked open a few inches. 

“Oh fuck no!” Jeremy shouted immediately.

He about-faced, but Haywood grabbed his collar before he could get away. He pushed open the door further, basically full-on dragging Jeremy behind him. 

“Pussy up, Dooley,” He growled, “Lady Mortimer has a flair for the dramatic. These are theatrics.”

“Lady Death?!” Jeremy hissed, “That’s who you-EEP!”

He interrupted himself as the door slammed shut behind them and he let out a startled squeak.

“Never mind, keep being a scaredy cat,” Haywood teased, “I like the results.”

Jeremy went red as he realized he’d jumped towards Haywood, grabbing his coat tightly. Haywood put his hands on Jeremy’s waist and pulled him close.

“You need me to protect you, Dooley?” he taunted in Jeremy’s ear, “Need me to be your big strong hero, little boy?”

_Little boy, how dare you?!_ Jeremy yanked him further down to speak in his ear and rolled his hips against him.

“I think _you’re_ the little boy,” he growled.

Haywood sputtered, going red at the implication, though a pulse went through him. _Wait._ Jeremy released him to look around. _Why hasn’t someone come to see who walked in the door?_ They were at one end of a long hallway. The other end featured a spiral staircase. There were a few archways between them and the staircase, but Jeremy couldn’t see a lot from where they were. 

The ceiling was high and dusty chandeliers hung from it, gemstones dripping down like wax from candles. Despite the chandeliers, the hall was rather dim. The walls were dark gray, the carpet maroon, and the stone under it was black. The whole place screamed “vampire mansion” and Jeremy felt cold all of a sudden.

“Haywood, what’s protocol here?” He asked, turning back to him.

“Usually she or one of her people just show up,” Haywood answered, “So if you get a chill up your spine, that’ll be it.”

Jeremy stiffened.

“You’d, uh, t-tell me if someone was behind me, um, right?” He muttered, chuckling nervously.

Haywood grinned that evil, sadistic smile and Jeremy felt a shiver run through him. From the grin or the likelihood that someone was behind him, he didn’t know. He swallowed and turned around. His eyebrows went up in surprise. 

A woman wearing a black Victorian style dress was grinning down at him. She was a few inches taller than him, no surprise there. What _was_ surprising was that she was adorable, despite the creepy air of the paranormal and death around her. She had curled black hair with a single streak of lightly colored hair.

“Bride of Frankenstein,” he blurted, immediately going bright red, “I-I didn’t m-mean-“

She laughed, throwing her head back and clapping her hands together.

“King was right about you!” She exclaimed delightedly, “You’re quite the interesting one. Dooley, isn’t it?”

He nodded as she came around to his side and looped her arm through his. She bounced a bit as she led him towards the staircase.

“I’m Lady Mortimer,” she introduced herself, “You’re free to call me Mortimer if you like. Though technically I am actually a Lady.”

“What, really?” Jeremy pressed, “Like it’s an official title?”

She grinned at him.

“Yessir,” she confirmed as they drew up to the bottom of the stairs, “I’ll have to tell you about it some time.”

_Are we ever going to see each other again?_ Jeremy wondered as she let go of him to lean towards the black, curly railing. Haywood took his collar and pulled him back a step as the floor shifted. A staircase appeared, spiraling downward like a mirrored image of the other staircase.

“Fucking wicked,” he muttered, a bit breathless.

“Thank you!” Mortimer laughed, “Not everyone appreciates the theatrics.”

She looked pointedly at Haywood behind him who snorted. She gestured for them to follow her down as she began explaining the situation. 

“So some loser,” she grunted, “Stole five of my six original pieces. An absolute tragedy. Six pieces from the original circle!”

Jeremy’s jaw clenched as he did his best not to point out she stole them first.

“Left a note,” she continued, “In the Created language. It says “Heart flies free”. Here.”

She pulled the card from the top of the dress and lifted it up as they hit the bottom of the stairs. Jeremy reached for it, but Haywood snatched it before he could take it. He checked the back and put it away as Mortimer led them across the room to her Circle. Jeremy rolled his eyes and threw him an annoyed look. _Asshole._

“We’ve got nothing,” She grumbled, “He’s not on any of our cameras. We have no fingerprints. Nothing. Like a ghost. Except for the card.”

“Where are the other entrances?” Jeremy questioned, looking around the room.

The Circle stood in the middle of the room, while several archways lead in different directions. Mortimer grinned at him.

“Try to find them,” she suggested, gesturing around the room.

“It’s a maze then?” He guessed, “Difficult to traverse?”

“More like impossible,” Haywood spoke up, “Unless you know the trick.”

“Is this a guessable trick?” Jeremy questioned, looking through one of archways.

“Not likely,” Haywood answered, “Possible, but very unlikely.”

Jeremy looked back to Mortimer.

“I was asking _you,”_ he grunted, “Is your trick guessable?”

“Two people of 46 have guessed it,” she answered, “It’s guessable.”

“But not likely,” Haywood muttered, bitterly.

Jeremy shot him a sharp glare before turning back to Mortimer. 

“And how many people know the trick now?” He questioned.

“Seven,” she replied, “And before you ask, the most likely leak would be your partner.”

“So the thief guessed it,” Jeremy reasoned, “Can you tell me about the gift?”

“Ah, right,” Mortimer chirped, “We have to go back up.”

She led the way and Jeremy turned to Haywood as they followed.

“How did you guess it?” He whispered.

“Detective work,” Haywood answered, flashing him a grin.

Jeremy scowled at him, opening his mouth to demand he give a real answer, but a commotion above them drew his attention. His hand twitched toward his hip as they hurried after Mortimer. They got to the top in time to see Mortimer throw her arms around someone who laughed as they caught her. 

“You said you weren’t gonna get back in time!” She laughed as they parted.

“Well, it wouldn’t be a very good-“

The man’s eyes darted to Jeremy who froze. _Shit. Hanson._ The hair streak, how did he not remember that before?? Hanson immediately pulled Mortimer around behind him. Jeremy’s heart pounded in his chest and he put his hands up.

“I’m a PI now,” he assured him, “I’m not...what I was before.”

Hanson glanced at Haywood who nodded. He relaxed, but kept an arm around Mortimer and an eye on Jeremy as they walked off the stairs. 

“Ego, Dooley,” Haywood spoke up, “Dooley this is Ego, he’s Lady Mortimer’s husband.”

“Sorry,” Jeremy muttered, “I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

“Well, this is awkward,” Ego commented, “Anyway, I gotta change. You two probably should too if you’re going to make it for the party.”

Haywood and Jeremy looked at each other and then back to him.

“Oh, right!” Mortimer spoke up, clapping her hands, “I have costumes for you!”

“Costumes?” Jeremy prompted, “I thought it was a masquerade?”

The four looked between each other in varying degrees of confusion and amusement. Jeremy was pretty sure whatever costume she had wouldn’t fit him anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

Jeremy twisted in the costume, ensuring it wouldn’t rip if he had to do anything rigorous. _Should be fine._ It was high quality and fit surprisingly well. Mortimer was good at quick adjustments. He put his foot up on the chair to clip the stockings to the garters. He was on the second leg when the door opened.

“I’m still not shaving, Mortimer,” he grumbled as he clipped them, “I’m keeping some part of me.”

He turned to see not Mortimer, but Haywood. Haywood in the costume Mortimer had picked for him. _Couples costumes?! Damnit!_ Haywood was staring openly at his stockinged leg hoisted onto the chair. Jeremy felt fire in his belly at the hungry look in Haywood’s eyes. He brushed his fingers over the top of the stocking and Haywood’s eyes tracked the movement. He trailed his fingers up his thigh to the ruffly skirt, pushing it up slightly. 

Haywood reached behind him and flipped the lock on the door before slowly walking towards him. His eyes didn’t leave Jeremy’s thigh where his fingers brushed lightly over the fabric. As he stopped in front of him, his eyes finally moved. They traveled up his thigh, over his torso to the neckline, up his neck, lingering on the fake bite mark before moving to Jeremy’s lips, until finally he locked eyes with him. 

“What’s wrong, Haywood?” Jeremy taunted, “Never seen a man in a dress before?”

“I-I’ve never...” Haywood whispered, “Seen anyone so beautiful.”

Jeremy blushed.

“Are you sure you’re gay?” Jeremy muttered, “I was only beautiful _after_ I put on a pretty dress for you?”

“Did you?” Haywood asked, breathless.

He leaned towards Jeremy, his hand reaching for where the edge of the skirt still rested on his thigh. His eyes looked down to the skirt as his fingers stretched towards the fabric.

“Did you wear it for me?” He whispered, voice low, “Did you get dressed up all pretty for me? Give me some pretty wrapping to tear off my beautiful little prize?”

_Little prize. How dare he?!_ Before his reaching hand could make it to the skirt, Jeremy’s hand shot out and smacked it away. Haywood’s eyes shot up to his in surprise and he swallowed visibly. Jeremy smirked as the fire in him spread through his body, igniting his blood as Haywood watched him closely. _Waiting._

“No manners, little boy,” Jeremy tutted, “You should ask before you touch what isn’t yours.”

Haywood shuddered.

“C-can I-?” He started.

_Knock knock knock!_

They froze, turning towards the door. 

“Fuck,” Haywood hissed.

Jeremy grunted his agreement. Haywood went to answer the door while Jeremy turned back to the mirror to make sure his massive boner couldn’t be seen in the dress. _Thank god for ruffles._

“Oh, hey, Haywood!” Mortimer greeted, “Ego was just looking for you. He has a weapon for you.”

Haywood exited the room and Mortimer bounded to Jeremy. She held out a thigh holster with a weapon already holstered. He sighed as he considered it. Really, he shouldn’t take it. It was no doubt _very_ illegal already without the added fact it was most certainly not registered to him. But it was better to be an alive criminal than a dead citizen. He took it and checked the piece out before strapping it to his thigh.

“Oh, and I brought the gift,” Mortimer added.

She held out a long-stemmed rose box and lifted the lid. Inside was a dead rose and a small card. He lifted the card. It was in the Creator language. _Fear not death._ Jeremy flipped it over to check the back before putting it back in the box. _Interesting._

“Nothing unusual about it?” He questioned, “Other than I guess all the obvious things?”

“Actually, for me, the gift isn’t that strange,” she admitted, shrugging, “I get lots of creepy shit. You know, because I’m into the paranormal and a woman.”

Jeremy nodded, shrugging. _Yeah, that tracks._

“It was just the fact it was in Creator,” She explained, “And it came today, the day of the costume party. I mean, really, what am I supposed to think?”

“No, I agree,” he answered, “Better safe than sorry after all. I’m concerned about how ominous it is though. Will you be armed as well?”

“Already am,” she assured him, winking, “Say, Jeremy, are you a stripper?”

He laughed as he finally took his foot off the chair.

“Used to be,” he confirmed, “Pretty obvious in my body language, huh?”

“And the fact you put on the dress without batting an eyelash,” she laughed, “I was sure you were going to back down. Hey, don’t forget your hood.”

She pulled the hood up over his head, covering the top half of his face.

“I can’t see this way,” he protested, laughing, “How can I catch what I can’t see?”

She adjusted the hood, putting it pristinely how she wanted it.

“Well, you can’t see chlamydia,” she joked, “But I bet you can catch that.”

“I was a stripper, not a hooker,” he pointed out, finally batting her hands away.

He pulled the hood back and then immediately pulled it back down again, now all the way to his chin. Haywood’s telltale snorting of stifling laughter made Jeremy’s face as red as the hood.

“My life sucks,” he mumbled.

“I thought you said you _weren’t_ a hooker?” Ego spoke up, also restraining laughter.

Jeremy pulled the hood back to glare at all three of them. His lips twitched as they burst into laughter and he couldn’t help but start laughing too. _Assholes and idiots the lot of them._ Jeremy thought briefly that he may have found his people, but his heart squeezed when he looked at Haywood. 

_Ended my career and yet...here I am, laughing with him, laughing with a criminal I arrested, as well._ He glanced at Ego. His mirth died and his hope deflated. No, they weren’t his people. 

“Anyway, shall we away?” He muttered, glancing at the mirror to check the thigh holster wasn’t visible.

“Yes, to the party!” Mortimer cheered, “I can’t wait to catch the little thief!”

_Again, **you** stole them first, _Jeremy thought as he followed her and Ego from the room. Haywood fell in step beside him and leaned down.

“You should give me a private dance later,” he whispered under his breath.

“You’ll have to beg sweeter than that, wolfy,” Jeremy hissed back.

Haywood’s nervous, blushing face brought his boner back in full force. _Oh boy, this is gonna be a long night._

~

Jeremy's eyes scanned the crowd, trying to pick out anyone that seemed likely to be the suspect.  _Wait, are they still called a suspect for a PI?_ He hummed, frowning. Truly he'd yet to really get comfortable with his new profession. A few months is all it'd been and he still felt wholly out of his element. 

"Well, what's the prettiest belle of the ball frowning about?" A voice spoke next to him.

_Cool, calm, with an air of knowing._

"I've been ditched," Jeremy lied, "My date has fled and I'm in this forest all alone. Would you care to be my guide?" 

He turned to the man who grinned widely and held out his hand. Jeremy placed his hand in his and dipped in a curtsy. The man dipped to kiss Jeremy's knuckles and smirked against them as he looked up at him. Jeremy's heartbeat picked up. His spider sense was tingling. _This is him._ The man led him to the dancefloor and took his waist. Jeremy laid his hand on the man's shoulder and stumbled as he suddenly yanked him closer.

"Tell me, little red, have you ever waltzed before?" He asked, voice full of amusement, "You certainly seem to have some background in dancing."

Jeremy ignored the obvious rude implication and followed his simple box step easily, focusing on cataloging his features. Half his face was covered by a mask, but he could still see both brown eyes and the man's brown skin. Coal black hair, past his chin in length, but tied back with a red ribbon.

"And here I thought you were just a stripper," the man mused, "I suppose appearances can be deceiving."

"I get that a lot," Jeremy quipped, "My turn for a question."

The man's lips quirked up in an amused sort of smirk and he raised an eyebrow.

"What should I call you?" Jeremy questioned.

"You can call me Phantom," he answered, "My turn."

His dancing sped up, but Jeremy did a decent job of keeping up.

"What is such a beauty doing with that dog?" Phantom asked, tone a bit harsh.

"Wolf," Jeremy corrected lightly, "And you are mistaken, sir."

"Oh?" Phantom prompted.

_"He's_ with _me,"_ Jeremy insisted.

"I guess wolves have bitches too," Phantom sneered.

Jeremy scowled at him and suddenly pushed forward, taking control of the dance.

"I suggest you refrain from insulting my partner," he growled, "My turn: how did you guess the maze's trick?"

Phantom chuckled, regaining control of their movements easily.

"Who says I guessed?" He mused, "Maybe I simply found out from someone who knew?"

"I have a hunch, I suppose," Jeremy answered breezily, "You seem like a smart man."

"Oh, you're too kind, little red," Phantom laughed, "I'm merely a humble thief. And assassin."

A cold smirk spread on his face and a shiver went up Jeremy's spine. _Something's not right._ Phantom leaned close, mouth hovering over Jeremy's ear.

"Tell me, little red," He whispered, "Do you fear death?"

Jeremy could feel his pulse in his throat.

"N-no," he muttered, though he wasn't sure that was the truth.

"Perhaps you fear the death of others?" Phantom suggested.

The music paused to switch and the man let go, pulling back and kissing his hand again. Jeremy found himself scanning the room in alarm.

"Where's Haywood?" He demanded, eyes snapping back to him.

Phantom grinned wildly at him.

"You'll have to get through the maze to find out," he informed, voice smug, "Good luck, little red."

He backed away and in the blink of an eye. _That's some horror movie shit._ Jeremy glanced around, looking for Mortimer or Ego, but couldn't see anyone familiar in the crowd. Jeremy moved toward the maze, heart thundering in his chest. No one told him the fucking trick. He hoped he could figure it out. He glanced around before slipping into the wrought iron gate to the hedge maze.


	6. Chapter 6

Jeremy drew the gun from the thigh holster as soon as he was out of view of the guests and pulled his phone from where he’d tucked it into the dress. He called Haywood, unsurprised when he didn’t answer. Jeremy’s heartbeat was pounding in his ears as he glanced around the hedges.

He suddenly felt oddly cold. It seemed darker as well. Jeremy shuddered. _This is a paranormal hot spot for sure._ He swallowed, his throat clicking dryly. He didn’t want to move forward, but Haywood was in trouble. _If I get killed by a ghost, I’m going to murder you, Haywood._

Jeremy started forward and took the first left turn, gun up. He could hear the whistle of the wind and the shifting sounds of the hedges as they swayed. His own footsteps were silent on the dirt as he crept forward. _Just relax. It’s not haunted._ Mortimer just made it seem haunted. Theatrics, as Haywood had said. 

He wandered around for what felt like an hour (but was only ten minutes) and came to two conclusions. One: the maze was much smaller, with more open spaces than he expected. Two: there were no other exits. The gate was the only way in or out. So the real trick was figuring out how to get the secret entrances to un-secret themselves. 

He was obviously missing something. As he wandered back to the gate, he found himself baffled and anxious. How was he supposed to figure this out? He wasn’t a fucking genius! Haywood was there somewhere though, he had to find him. 

_Perhaps you fear the death of others._

_Okay, focus! What do we know?_ We know there’s this triangular space with three branches. If we assume the triangle is the center, then the most likely locations of the three entrances were the ends of the three branches. But the branches didn’t really seem to have ends. Or rather, it was difficult to figure out what was meant to be an end. 

_Detective work._ Haywood said he used detective work to figure out the maze. Detectives look at possible connections between evidence and suspects. In this case, Jeremy needed to connect the maze to Mortimer. Something about Mortimer made her design the maze like this. And what was Mortimer’s whole deal? 

“Creepy stuff!” Jeremy exclaimed, “It’s a triskelion! Thank you, Teen Wolf!”

He sprinted down the nearest branch and followed the curl of the hedges to a dead end. _Okay, here we are, but how do we get in?_ He holstered his weapon to try brushing aside the hedges, but they were too dense. He bent to check at the bottoms of the hedges, but again found nothing. He rubbed his face aggressively, annoyed. 

“How do I get in?!” He demanded.

“User detected,” a cool robotic voice called from below his feet, “Password required.”

“Mortimer is officially my best friend now,” Jeremy proclaimed.

“Password incorrect.”

“Uh, Arin?” He tried.

“Password incorrect.”

“Death?”

“Password incorrect.”

“Triskelion?”

“Password incorrect.”

Jeremy sighed, rubbing his temples. _Okay, need a password._ It had to be something related to the “trick”, right? How else would Haywood and Phantom be able to get in? Jeremy pictured the maze in his mind. There was something odd. A triskelion has three identical branches. The maze did not. He paced back the way he came to search the branch. 

It went in a full circle with an open area to the side. The end of the triskelion branched off from the circle. It was another symbol laid over the curl of the triskelion. He crouched down and drew the symbol in the dirt. He recognized it as omega in the Greek alphabet and hastened back to the door.

“Omega!” He shouted at the ground.

“Password correct.”

There was a great shifting sound and the hedge opened up, pushing outward like it was a door. Jeremy drew his weapon and ducked in the door. A winding staircase descended from the spot and Jeremy was exhausted just looking at it.  _Haywood you fucking owe me!_ He thought as he jogged down the stairs. _This would be easier without heels._

He was down several steps when they stopped being steps. He slid and managed to throw himself back instead of forward, slamming to the now-slide on his back with a grunt. His sliding continued downward with him scrambling to try and slow himself down while growling out “fuck fuck fuck” over and over again until he caught sight of the bottom.

The momentum sent him sliding across the floor into the far wall with a grunt. _Ow._ He was _very_ glad Haywood wasn’t there to see his skirt hiked up nearly to his fucking chin. He quickly got up, dusting off the dress as he got it back down where it was supposed to be. _Okay. Where’s the gun?_ He found it and got it securely in his hand before looking around.

“Fuck me right in the asshole,” he grumbled, “Nevermind, Mortimer sucks.”

The room was round, with several archways leading to dark corridors. _I’m about to get murdered by a ghost. Or a Phantom. Haywood, I’m not sure you’re fucking worth it._ He pushed that thought away and took a closer look at the corridors. He turned on the flashlight on his phone and shined it down the halls.

Nothing seemed different between them. They were all about the same. It seemed like it truly didn’t matter which one he went down. He picked the far left one and crept down it carefully. He kept his phone and the gun up, approaching the first turn cautiously. 

Jeremy made several more turns and found himself back at the staircase that led up to the maze. Or was this a different staircase? Oh boy. Jeremy was going to panic if he didn’t take a deep breath and fucking relax. _Okay, okay. Let’s think it out._ Another trick to get through the maze. This time less secret entrances, more turns. _Not a problem. Totally fine. We can do it._ Was it getting warmer? Jeremy scowled at himself. 

_Relax, Dooley. You’re fine. You just have to be as smart as Haywood._ Easy feat, right? Except Haywood was smarter and better than him in every way. And fucking beautiful. He groaned, dropping his head to the wall of the corridor. _Maybe I should just use my dick like a divining rod. Do you know where he is, boy?_

“I’ve already lost it and I’ve been in here like two minutes,” he grunted. 

_Focus. Focus._ He pulled away from the wall and started again, gun and phone pointed ahead. There’s a trick, which means there’s also the possibility he could just accidentally stumble into the correct path. Right? He thought what was how it worked. Maybe. His hope died when he heard shifting behind him and turned to find the walls had moved. 

“Great,” he muttered, “Couldn’t even tell me that much?”

_Shifting maze. Fuck this. Haywood’s dead, I’m going to be shanked by a ghost I can’t even see coming, and Phantom is gonna get away with the piece._ He thought of the ritual and shuddered. And he was going to kill people in horrific ways. 

_No, come on, I can’t let that happen._ He squared his shoulders and moved to inspect the shifting walls. Maybe he could predict which ones would shift? It looked the same as the others. He couldn’t tell the difference between them except that he’d actually seen them move. 

_Okay, how’d I figure the first one out? Relate it to Mortimer, find her touch in the design._ Other than the fact the place was creepy as shit anyway, what else was there? _No lights. Hm._ He flipped off his phone, against his better judgement and put his hand on the nearby wall. He kept the gun in his hand, but let it rest at his side so he didn’t accidentally shoot someone he didn’t want to shoot. 

He moved forward, running his hand along the wall and walking ahead very carefully. Hopefully there wasn’t a pit for him to fall into. His ears strained to pick up any sounds and after a few twists and turns, he realized that the shifting walls were only shifting after he passed them. Motion sensors. _Interesting._ The maze was reacting to him, no doubt designed to freak him out as well as keep him lost. 

He was being toyed with, goaded into moving quicker and more recklessly. He stopped moving and waited. The walls moved, blocking the path he’d come from and opening a new one. He followed the new path and waited. Again, the walls shifted. He took the new path. He continued this way until he finally saw lights ahead of him. He got the gun back up and approached the archway that led into the Circle room.

“Tsk, silent as ever?” Phantom’s voice echoed in the chamber, “No words for me?”

“Fuck you?” Haywood offered hoarsely, “An-answer the fucking question. Wh-where is Dooley?”

Jeremy frowned. _He’s playing us against each other._

“Who knows?” Phantom answered breezily, “Now you answer a question. Where is the piece?”

“I h-have no idea what you’re talking a-about,” Haywood rasped.

Jeremy flinched as a pained shout burst through the cold air. _He’s hurting him._ Jeremy nearly tripped in his rush to get into the room. Phantom turned to him, grinning as he entered. Haywood was curled on the ground behind him, looking like the man had kicked him in the ribs. Phantom had a sword like some sort of movie villain. Had he had it before? Jeremy couldn’t recall seeing it.

“Good game, little red!” Phantom called cheerfully, “I’m surprised you got here so quickly! Well done.”

“Wasn’t as hard as everyone made it seem,” Jeremy grumbled, “So you wanna tell me what you want? What you want that makes you get away from him?”

Phantom puffed out an annoyed breath, rolling his eyes.

“You have a gun, moron,” he pointed out, “You could just shoot me.”

“Sure, but that wouldn’t tell me what you did to him,” Jeremy countered.

Phantom laughed, sounding utterly delighted.

“You’re a smart one, little red,” he mused, “He’s poisoned. My favorite thing to do.”

Jeremy’s insides clenched. Poison was not good. Poisons always had antidotes you could only get if you let the poisoner win. Jeremy holstered the weapon and swallowed, putting his hands up.

“Then h-how do I save him?” He asked, trying to control the shaking.

“Well, to start,” Phantom began, “You’ll have to let me go.”

_Of course._

“And as I make my daring escape,” he went on, “You’ll have about a minute and thirty seconds to seek what I already told you not to fear.”

With a flourish, the man sheathed his sword and dashed off towards one of the archways. 

“See you soon, lovers!” He called.

Jeremy wasn't listening, he was sprinting up the stairs to the castle, running for the dressing room Mortimer had him use. He went straight to where she’d laid the gift. He shoved off the lid and picked up the rose. It was top heavy and he practically shredded the petals to retrieve the vial inside. He ran back down, nearly tumbling on the stairs and dropped to his knees in front of Haywood. He was pale and shaky. 

Jeremy’s own hands shook as he pried his mouth open. There was blood on his tongue. Jeremy pulled him up so he didn’t choke on it and dumped the liquid in his mouth. He closed his mouth back and Haywood’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. His eyes fluttered open and he tried to focus on Jeremy.

“L-Listen,” he whispered, “St-star...cr-crossed l-lovers. Th-they think...it’s us.”

“For the ritual?” Jeremy asked, incredulously, “The two hearts of one?”

Haywood nodded jerkily.

“I’m sl-sleeping n-now,” He rasped.

“O-okay,” Jeremy mumbled, “Y-you’re s-safe though?”

“Life, yes,” Haywood muttered, eyes closing, “Heart? Un-unlikely.”

Jeremy blushed, though he wasn’t totally sure that was directed at him. Star-crossed lovers. That was not good news for them. The ritual required a pair of lovers to be sacrificed. A pair who would be as destined for each other as they would be tragedy. Jeremy’s hand shook as he brushed some of Haywood’s long hair from his face. _It’s a good thing this is all bullshit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed making it! ^_^  
> 


	7. Chapter 7

“No, he has friends,” Jeremy insisted, “Um. Geoff Ramsey, Michael Jones, er, Gavin... something?”

“We have no one on file for him,” the doctor repeated, “You’ll have to contact them yourself.”

“Not even an emergency contact?” Jeremy pressed.

“No, there’s nothing we can do,” the man answered.

He left and Jeremy was almost grateful for it. He rubbed his face tiredly and sighed. He reentered the room, moving to Haywood’s side and sat down heavily. He had to call Michael, he was the only one he had the number for, but he hadn’t contacted him at all. And...the flirty tone of their parting seemed... awkward to say the least. He called him, leaning his elbows onto his knees nervously.

“Well, about time, beautiful,” Michael’s voice called through the phone, “Playing the long-ugh!”

He was interrupted by his own grunt of pain. There was a few sounds of impacts, punches Jeremy thought, before Michael spoke again.

“Sorry, about that,” he grumbled, “You free tonight? I can pick-“

“N-no! No!” Jeremy choked, hastily interrupting, “I’m n-not calling for that. Um, H-Haywood...got poisoned. He’s unconscious now. I didn’t know Geoff or Gavin’s numbers, so I could only call you.”

There was a pause on the other line.

“Why?” Michael questioned.

“Um, I didn’t ask, I probably-“

“No, why did you need to call someone?” Michael corrected, “Ryan hates waking up to us in the hospital.”

“Oh.”

Jeremy glanced at Haywood and flinched when he saw his eyes were open, staring at him. 

“Uh, I-I guess I should g-go then,” he sputtered into the phone, “T-talk to you later. M-maybe.”

“Maybe?” Michael grunted, “I thought-“

“Bye!” Jeremy chirped, hanging up.

He cleared his throat and fidgeted with the edge of the skirt, not looking at Haywood. He could feel his eyes burning on him though and he was surely as red as the hood.

“H-how do you f-feel?” He mumbled.

“Depends,” Haywood muttered.

Jeremy looked up in confusion.

“How bad do I have to feel to get a pity fuck?” Haywood grunted, eyes traveling over the dress.

Jeremy blushed and rolled his eyes.

“So you’re fine then,” he grumbled, standing up, “Good, I’m fucking exhausted.”

Haywood’s hand shot out and snatched his wrist, whirling him back around. 

“I got you a present,” he muttered.

“If it’s your dick, I’m cutting it off,” Jeremy countered.

“No, bring me my stuff,” Haywood ordered, pointing to where his personal bag was.

He let go of Jeremy who scowled at being ordered and he went pink, turning away.

“Please, b-bring me m-my stuff,” he mumbled.

“Good boy,” Jeremy cooed, patting his head before going to retrieve his personal items.

He picked up the plastic bag, shocked at how heavy it was and brought it to Haywood who was pointedly not looking at him, face red. Based on how he was sitting Jeremy could guess why he was embarrassed. He turned around as Haywood pushed back the covers and started to put his clothes on. Now _his_ face was burning. 

“What a gentleman,” Haywood teased. 

Jeremy rolled his eyes, turning around to tell him off. His torso was bare, but also covered. _Scars. Tattoos._ Jeremy found himself wanting to touch and reached out before he could stop himself. Haywood grabbed his wrist tightly and Jeremy’s eyes shot up to his.

“S-sorry,” He whispered, “I...I wasn’t th-thinking. I’m-I’m sorry.”

Haywood looked away from him, his jaw clenching. He pulled Jeremy’s hand to his chest, spread it out over his marked skin before he let go. Jeremy stepped closer, running his fingers over the ink and the scar tissue. The ink originated from over his sternum, stretching out over his torso in a circular pattern. They were different occult symbols, some of which Jeremy vaguely recognized. They were arranged in spirals, all leading back to the center, a pentagram. Some were inked over scar tissue while others were marred by it. 

“Various protective symbols and runes,” Haywood explained, “A request from my mother.”

Jeremy smiled softly, tracing over the pentagram.

“She cares about you,” he commented quietly.

“Cared.”

Jeremy’s hand spread out over the pentagram.

“I’m...sorry,” he whispered, “That pain is a heavy one.”

Haywood finally turned his head back to look at him, eyes searching his. He laid a hand over Jeremy’s, pressing it more firmly to the pentagram. Jeremy’s heart fluttered in his own chest as Haywood leaned towards him. Haywood’s eyes suddenly flicked away and he scowled at the door. He quickly got his shirt on as the doctor entered.

“I presume you’re leaving, Mr. Haywood?” He grunted, sounding tired.

“Yes, of course,” Haywood answered, “And I presume you got the usual gift?”

_What?_ Jeremy wondered, then thought better of asking. He probably didn’t want to know what shady shit was happening. The doctor shuffled off and Haywood pulled his coat from the bag. He laid it on his lap and carefully unfolded it, revealing what was inside. Jeremy’s eyes went wide. _The Clarks’ piece of the Circle._

“H-how did you get th-that?!” He hissed.

Haywood grinned at him, folding his coat back around it and handing it over. Jeremy started to unwrap it again, but Haywood stopped him.

“Best if we don’t let any security cameras see that,” he explained, winking.

Jeremy laughed and suddenly hugged the man, burying his face in his shoulder. Haywood’s arms slowly wrapped around Jeremy like he wasn’t sure how hugs worked.

“I-I’ll split the money w-with you,” Jeremy assured him, “S-since Mortimer won’t p-pay us.”

“Not necessary,” Haywood dismissed, “I’m not a PI for the money.”

Jeremy stepped back and opened his mouth to ask why he was a PI then, but Haywood suddenly grabbed him and shoved his mouth over his. Jeremy’s hand dropped the piece in favor of gripping Haywood’s shirt and pushing back with about the same force. Jeremy groaned into his mouth. He was hot. On fire. Wanted him. Needed him. Needed to consume him. Devour him. He slid one hand up to his hair, weaving his fingers through the already loose ponytail. 

They both froze as they realized someone else had joined them. Several someones. Jeremy’s head turned, pulling his mouth off Haywood’s. He blushed crimson at the sudden crowd staring them. Geoff, Gavin, Michael, and another man Jeremy didn’t know all stood at the door. He cleared his throat and tried to pull away, but Haywoods arms were tight around him.

“Get out,” he growled at them before suddenly spinning them.

Jeremy grunted as he was shoved down on the bed, Haywood moving up between his legs. He bit at his bottom lip before diving down to bite at Jeremy’s neck. Jeremy groaned, burying his burning face in Haywood’s shoulder.

“Th-they’re not leaving!” He hissed.

One of Haywood’s hands moved out, searching for something which he promptly hurled at the door. That got a squawk from Gavin, but they all just laughed it off. Jeremy groaned as Haywood’s hips rolled against him. Really, it wouldn’t be the first time a crowd watched while he got fucked. College had been a trying time financially. Haywood stopped suddenly, pulling away to look down between them. He shoved up the skirt and his tongue darted out, wetting his lips.

“Damn, Dooley,” he whispered breathlessly, “All the inches off your height had to go somewhere, I guess.”

“Told you!” Gavin shrieked behind him. 

Jeremy shoved the skirt back down, scrambling away. He was blushing all over as he grabbed the piece and got off the bed. Haywood watched him crossing toward the door, a predatory look on his face. Jeremy swallowed, wondering if Haywood would really try to grab him. Because humiliation be damned, if he threw him down again, Jeremy would absolutely consent.

“Th-Thank you!” He blurted, “U-um, I’ll c-call you! I mean, a-about the case! S-sorry, bye!”

He scurried out the door, pushing past the group, squeezing the piece tightly to his chest. They all snickered and snorted as he hurried down the hallway.

“I’ll be lenient and only kill one of you,” Haywood called from the room, “Choose who dies.”

Jeremy shuddered. Jesus, he sounded like he meant that.

~

“Mr. Dooley, what a surprise!” Mrs. Clark exclaimed as she opened the door.

Jeremy went a bit pink. They hadn’t thought he’d return with the piece. Great, he was so incompetent even his clients didn’t trust him.

“I don’t have a lot of time,” he muttered, “But here’s your relic back.”

He held out the case they’d given him to put it in and Mrs. Clark’s eyebrows raised in surprise as she took it. 

“It’s only been two weeks!” She pointed out, “We never expected you to find it so soon!”

Jeremy smiled tightly.

“Glad to exceed expectations,” he answered, “Anyway, I think it’s best if you kept quiet about its return. Someone is likely to come looking for it again.”

“Oh, you haven’t apprehended the culprit?” She asked.

“No, but we’re working on it,” he assured her, “Anyway, I’m glad it’s back in the right hands. I gotta go, but thanks for hiring me.”

“Wait, wait!” She called out, “Let me just grab your payment!”

_Right._ She waved him into the foyer and hurried off to another room. _It’s probably a check,_ he mused as he waited for the elderly woman to return. Suddenly his eyes were drawn to a picture hanging on the wall. 

His spider sense tingled as he saw the photo. He quickly got his phone out and took a picture, stowing it as she came back around the corner. She handed him a hefty envelope and he accepted it with a smile.

“I almost left without it,” he laughed, “I’m so scatterbrained sometimes I worry myself. Thank you again, Mrs. Clark. And if you hear from the thief let me know.”

She nodded her agreement, thanked him, and walked him the few steps to the door. He waited until he was safely home to open his phone and check the picture. It was the Clarks and a third person standing in front of a partial Carver’s circle. He called Haywood.

“Haywood, don’t flirt!” Jeremy snapped as the line connected, “Th-the thief, Phantom, he’s related to the Clarks! I think, I mean, it-it _looks_ like maybe he’s their son.”

“What? How did you find that out?” Haywood questioned.

“I got the payment,” Jeremy explained, considering the interaction, “I...I think they sent him to get it back. She was shocked to see me. Fuck! I just handed the piece over to the lunatics! An-anyway, there was this picture on the wall, it’s him and them together, with a Carver’s Circle. But I don’t understand why they hired me. I mean, i-if they were just going to send him, why bother?”

The line was quiet a moment as the two thought about it.

“Lovers,” they blurted together.

“They must’ve thought from the beginning,” Haywood muttered, “That you were one of the lovers. They needed to get close, so they-“

“-tricked me!” Jeremy finished breathlessly, “Fuck, I’ve been duped!”

He covered his eyes with one hand.

“I’m such an idiot!” He lamented.

“Dooley, you’re not an idiot,” Haywood hissed, “You’re a fucking genius!”

“Wh-What?” Jeremy sputtered, blushing.

“You found the lunatics!” Haywood proclaimed, “Now all we have to do is catch them!”

“Right!” Jeremy exclaimed, “We need to figure out where the remaining pieces are!”

“I’ll talk to the collectors again,” Haywood explained, “You find where the ritual site will be in case they’ve already found all the pieces.”

Jeremy fumbled for the book still on his coffee table.

“Um, I-I mean, please f-find it,” Haywood mumbled.

Jeremy nearly had a heart attack. _Fucking Christ alive. This man..._

“Good boy,” he praised, “Get to work then.”

“Yes, sir,” Haywood answered immediately.

He hung up and Jeremy clutched his chest. _Oh shit. Nope, nope, nope! I have a ritual site to find! Haywood is gonna have to take a backseat right now._ He flipped the book open, nearly ripping the pages with his shaking hands. He stopped, covered his face, and let out a very undignified squeal.

“He’s so cute!” He squeaked, “Jesus, I’m gonna die of cuteness overload!”

He took a deep breath. _Okay, back to work. Let’s find these lunatics before they try to kill us._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I heard you like almost sex and big dicks.  
> Also mayle’s writing bingo: mark off Jeremy has a massive dong.
> 
> Follow me on Twitter @1stworldmutant for more sparkle, little stars. ✨


	8. Chapter 8

“It’s open!” Jeremy shouted over his shoulder.

“Dooley!” Haywood called, his footsteps rushed, “I know where they’re going next!”

“And I know the site too!” Jeremy exclaimed, “That’s two steps ahead of the lunatics!”

He grinned up at Haywood as he came around the corner. Jeremy’s eyes were drawn to his hair as he came over to show him something on his phone. It was down, looking a bit damp. It looked like he was in the shower when Jeremy had called him, rushing to find the clue and get back to Jeremy who was trying really hard to look at the phone. Haywood’s face was lit up beautifully, his grin eager and eyes bright. 

Jeremy forced his eyes to the phone and squinted at the thing he was showing him. A cover image or poster of some sort. _A convention? An occult convention. Hallow’s Haven. Interesting._ What was most interesting was a small blurb that claimed they’d have an event solely for Creator enthusiasts that would include a showcase for owners of pieces.

“Oh, shit!” He exclaimed, “Do we know anyone going?”

He looked back to Haywood, who pulled his phone back to switch to something and showed it to him again. A text exchange.

Dead to Me: _Yeah, man, sorry about that. But do you blame us?_

To Dead to Me: _You do a lot of talking for a dead man._

Dead to Me: _If I have a lead for you, will you forgive me?_

To Dead to Me: _I’m listening._

Dead to Me: _The con. Ax is going and he has an OG piece._

To Dead to Me: _Your death is under review._

Jeremy’s eyebrows went up and he looked at Haywood who brightened up immediately, grinning smugly. _Triumphant. Arrogant bastard._

“Good job,” Jeremy grunted begrudgingly, “I have to admit, without you I never would’ve gotten this far.”

Haywood pulled his phone back, but kept watching him eagerly. _What is he waiting for?_

“Oh, the site!” Jeremy exclaimed, waving him over, “The ritual has to be performed under a new moon.”

Haywood made a disgruntled noise and sat next to him, looking at the book in his lap.

“So we have some time,” he assured him, “Anyway, it talks about a lot of materials needed for the ritual. A lot of blood. A scary amount, actually.”

He tapped over the diagram where a large bowl laid over the Carver’s Circle.

“Anyway, it also talks about plants,” he went on, pointing where sketches of various plants were drawn, “Most notably are Salvia and Mandragora, which of course don’t grow here, but as I was looking them up to confirm what they were, I realized this one-“

He tapped this sketch.

“-wasn’t just lilac,” he continued, “But _California_ Lilac.”

He picked up his phone and showed Haywood the Wikipedia article.

“But also, it says alive,” he added, angling the book, “And connected to the earth, see? So they need the California Lilacs to be alive. They can’t just cut them or move them, they have to be wild. Add this to-“

He flipped the page.

“-their insistence on elevation,” he finished, “That leads to-“

“Mount Chiliad,” they spoke together.

They looked at each other, grinning.

“We did it!” Jeremy squeaked excitedly, “We’re catching up to them!”

“Yeah, we did good,” Haywood answered, leaning toward him a bit, “... _I-I_ did good...right?”

He was pink, looking expectantly at Jeremy, his body nearly turned fully towards him. Jeremy’s body flushed as he realized what he wanted. He reached out and patted his head.

“Y-Yes, you were a g-good boy,” he assured him shakily.

Haywood brightened up and Jeremy ached with how bad he wanted him. His hand smoothed down his long hair tangling in it and holding the back of his neck. He pulled his face towards him, looking at his lips briefly before looking into Haywood’s darkened eyes.

“Do you want a reward?” He whispered.

Haywood swallowed and nodded carefully. Jeremy pressed his lips to Haywood’s gently before trailing equally gentle kisses across his cheek to his ear. His hand smoothed down Haywood’s shirt to his belt as he kissed his red ear. Haywood’s breathing hitched as Jeremy groped him through his pants. 

“Ha-“ Jeremy started.

He was interrupted by his phone suddenly going off in his lap. He frowned pulling back to mute it, but his jaw dropped as he saw the name. He fumbled for it, answering quickly.

“Dooley speaking,” he blurted.

He winced. _Too loud._

“Dooley, it’s Burns.”

“Y-Yes, sir?” Jeremy prompted.

“You worked that stupid candle case, right?” Burns barked.

Jeremy deflated a bit.

“Uh, y-yes, sir,” he confirmed.

“Did you happen to save your file on it?” Burns grunted.

“That would be illegal, sir,” Jeremy pointed out.

“Email it to me,” Burns grumbled.

“Yes, sir.”

Burns hung up and Jeremy sighed. He dropped his phone into his lap and his head into his hands. He’d thought for a second Captain Burns was going to give him good news. He thought maybe he was going to tell him they wanted him back. Tell him the whole thing wasn’t his fault, so he shouldn’t be held accountable for it. Haywood cleared his throat, startling him into jumping a bit. 

“S-sorry,” he muttered, “I forgot you were there. Um. Anyway, I guess were waiting on the convention then, right?”

“Right,” Haywood confirmed, “I-I guess I should go.”

He stood and Jeremy followed him to the door, holding it open as Haywood passed through it.

“Try not to miss me too much, Dooley,” he called over his shoulder with a grin.

“There’s no danger in that,” Jeremy grumbled, though a smile quirked up on his lips.

He did miss him when he was gone, but he definitely _didn’t_ try to remedy that by burying his face in the coat he had definitely, really forgotten to give back to him on _accident._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I heard tell of some who enjoyed the shyest of Ryans, so I have delivered him unto you!  
> Tweet me @1stworldmutant for more gays and sadness.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: brief non-con kiss

Jeremy’s eyes scanned the crowd and the feeling of deja vu unnerved him. Was Phantom there in the crowd as he’d been last time? Maybe not, but no doubt one of the lunatics would be. He wondered if he’d be able to recognize them properly. He didn’t know how many there were. There could be dozens.

“Dooley.”

Jeremy jumped, immediately feeling like an idiot.

“I was really hoping you got a cold,” he muttered, “And someone more agreeable would be here.”

“I would never flake on our date,” Haywood answered.

Jeremy finally turned to look at him, face full of exasperation. Haywood just grinned back. He was wearing his business clothes again and Jeremy wondered if he had any other clothes. 

“What’s that?” Haywood questioned, gesturing at the dress bag.

“Take a guess, Sherlock,” Jeremy answered breezily.

“Little red dress?” Haywood guessed.

“We have a winner,” Jeremy grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Haywood bent to put his lips near Jeremy’s ear.

“What do I win?” He whispered hotly.

Jeremy opened his mouth to say “a shot to the testicles” but was interrupted.

“Hey, are you Little Red Riding Hood?” A voice questioned.

Jeremy looked at the source of the voice and was almost blinded by sparkles. A tall man in a sparkly blue spandex jumpsuit was waving at him with a cheerful smile.

“Jesus, you’re Danny?” He asked, “You’re like a disco ball, man.”

“Thanks!” Danny laughed, “We’re on our way to a show.”

Jeremy glanced at the man behind him. He was wearing a full ninja costume. 

“So that’s Brian?” He reasoned, “I’ll be honest, neither of you were what I was expecting.”

Danny laughed and Jeremy felt like he was going to be blown back from the brightness and mirth of the man. He leaned in closely and put an elbow on Jeremy’s shoulder. Jeremy blushed.

“Scooze was right about you,” he mused, “Cute and unexpected. You got a significant other, darlin?”

Jeremy was scarlet. _This extremely handsome man is flirting with me while Haywood is right there. Jesus, why do I care what Haywood thinks? Because I’m fucking crazy!_

“Y-Yes!” Jeremy blurted, “B-boyfriend. H-here’s the dress.”

He pushed the bag at the man who made a disappointed sound, but shrugged it off and took it.

“Win some, lose some,” he joked, “Catch ya later, lil red!”

He winked and he and Brian left the building. Not before the other man also winked at Jeremy though. Jeremy covered his face. _Jesus Christ! Why is my life this now?!_

“Dooley?” Haywood called.

_Right. **That’s** why._

“Right, where is this guy we’re meeting?” Jeremy asked, dropping his hands.

“In the exhibit room for the Circles,” Haywood answered.

He took Jeremy’s hand to lead the way and Jeremy was half embarrassed beyond all belief, half grateful for it. There were so many people there, he no doubt would’ve been lost in the crowd. They weaved through the place until they made it to an open set of double doors with a sign proclaiming it was the room they were looking for. 

Haywood released him once they made it into the less crowded room and Jeremy tried to pretend it didn’t disappoint him. _What is happening to me?! This man is...amazing and beautiful, but he’s also the one that ruined my life! And he’s insufferable! And so fucking smart. And an utter asshole. But so fucking hot._

“Dooley,” The man drew his attention, “This is Axial.”

Jeremy waved to a man on the other side of a table who waved back. “Nerd” was the first thing Jeremy thought, which put him at ease somewhat. Long hair, glasses, full, but short facial hair. He had a Halo T-shirt on. Jeremy brightened up.

“Nice shirt!” He commented cheerfully, “Oh, s-sorry, I’m Jeremy, nice to meet you, Axial.”

“C-call me Matt,” the man muttered, “Nice to meet you too.”

Jeremy felt like the most awkward man alive. He looked at the table to see the man’s pieces. He frowned.

“None of these are an original,” he pointed out, looking back up.

“Yes, I, uh, put the piece back here,” Matt answered, “King said some asshole is after all the original pieces.”

He lifted up a backpack and Jeremy nodded.

“That’s a good idea,” He murmured, “Keep it close.”

“Better idea,” Haywood grunted, “Don’t bring it all.”

Jeremy gave him a sharp look.

“Why, so it could get stolen while he was away?” He suggested tightly.

Haywood scowled even as he went pink and looked away. Jeremy rolled his eyes and turned back to Matt whose face was finally making an expression: fear. While staring at Haywood. When he turned back to Jeremy he looked at him in awe. _What the fuck is with this guy’s reactions?_

“Anyway, here,” He spoke up, holding out his phone, “Give me your number so we can contact each other.”

Matt nodded, taking the phone and entering his number. Jeremy put him under “Matt aka Axial” and he fell below “Lady Mortimer” on his list. He had a fleeting thought that he had too many criminals in his phone that was suddenly steamrolled by a new glaring realization:

_HAYWOOD IS THE FUCKING VAGABOND!_

“Oh shit!” Jeremy hissed, “Oh my god!”

“Dooley?” Haywood called, “What? What did you figure out?”

Jeremy covered his mouth and cleared his throat before schooling his expression.

“Haywood, could we find some place to speak in private?” He asked, “Sorry, Matt, if you could give us a moment. Just hang onto that.”

Jeremy gripped Haywood’s elbow firmly and marched him out the other end of the room and around a corner into an empty hallway. He pulled around to a stop, glancing around to ensure no one was there. 

He turned to Haywood to immediately demand and explanation only to be suddenly seized and thrown against the wall. Haywood’s mouth crashed over his and he pressed up against him eagerly. Jeremy groaned. _Fuck, focus! Focus! Focus on those fucking lips. And his tongue in your mouth. Focus on how good that’d feel elsewhere._ Jeremy groaned again and Haywood pulled back to bite at his neck.

“F-fuck, H-Haywood!” Jeremy moaned.

“Shh!” Haywood hissed, “You’re gonna attract attention.”

Jeremy tried to bite his tongue around another breathless moan. Haywood’s hands shoved up his shirt, squeezing and groping him. Jeremy clutched at his coat, trying to stabilize himself.

“God, you _do_ sound so fucking good though,” Haywood muttered in his ear, “I wanna fuck you against this wall. I wanted to shove you down over his pieces and remind you who you belong to.”

_Pieces? Who? What? Fuck._ They were interrupted by a throat clearing. They turned to a very unamused security guard. Haywood looked ready to murder him which reminded Jeremy why he’d pulled him aside in the first place. 

“Back to the con or out, boys,” the security guard grunted.

Haywood seized Jeremy’s hand and made for the nearest non-emergency exit. Jeremy stumbled, trying to keep up with his long strides. Stepping outside helped clear his head and he halted, yanking Haywood to a stop.

“What?” Haywood snapped.

“Y-you...”

Jeremy hesitated. Vagabond. Most notorious serial killer of San Andreas. Never caught. Not once. Known for brutal murders and torture. One day he’d just disappeared, vanished completely. Jeremy looked into Haywood’s blue eyes and over his long hair tied back. The only two physical features that were known for sure about the Vagabond: blue eyes and long hair. It was definitely him. Haywood’s face twisted in concern and he let go of Jeremy’s hand.

“F-fuck, I’m sorry,” he muttered, “Am I...I d-didn’t mean to...pr-pressure you.”

Jeremy rubbed his palm against one of his temples and thought back to the gallery. Vagabond. Source of destruction, fear, death... but a man who lost himself to be those things. A man who became so fused with the mask he’d stopped being human. Haywood, on the other hand, was standing before him sputtering apologies about assuming too much and pressuring Jeremy to have sex with him. Two things he hadn’t done, but was concerned he had. They were the same, but...different. Haywood had taken the mask off and now was doing his damndest to stop being Vagabond. Jeremy’s heart squeezed.

“-But th-that’s not to m-mean you-“ Haywood was saying.

Jeremy gripped his collar and hauled him into a quick, hard kiss.

“You’re not assuming,” he whispered, “You’re not pressuring. But we have a job. No offense to Axial, but he doesn’t look like he’d win in a fight.”

“O-oh,” Haywood mumbled, pink, “Then...later we c-can?”

“If you’re a good boy,” Jeremy growled, kissing him again.

He let him go as he stuttered out a “Yes, sir” and turned to reenter the building. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!_ Jeremy rubbed at his face, trying to clear his head. He shouldn’t be more into him now! Why was he more into him?! They hastened back to the Circle room where Matt was looking relieved to see them.

“Sorry about that,” Jeremy muttered, “Still got the piece?”

He nodded in response.

“But I thought you should know,” he spoke up, “Cat just came in and she said she has an original too.”

He pointed down the row of tables to where a woman with red hair was was chatting with someone. His spider sense was tingling, even though he couldn’t see the person properly.

“H-Haywood,” Jeremy hissed, leaning towards him.

Haywood leaned down to put his ear next to Jeremy’s mouth.

“That’s Phantom down there,” he whispered, “What do you think?”

“You stay,” Haywood answered, “I’ll go. I didn’t see him properly last time.”

Jeremy nodded and refocused on Matt as Vagabond moved toward Cat’s table. 

“Do you know anyone else with original pieces?” He asked calmly, “We’re doing our best to find them first.”

“I think I know a few.”

Jeremy’s insides clamped down at Phantom’s voice. He slowly turned to see Haywood halfway slumped over on Phantom’s smaller frame.

“Hey, little red,” Phantom greeted cheerfully, “I think this is yours.”

He gestured at Haywood who swayed, eyes unfocused. 

“What did you do to him?” Jeremy grit out through his teeth.

Phantom rolled his eyes.

“Who cares?” He scoffed, “The bitch is not worth your time. But if you insist on taking it back, you’ll have your friend there pass over the piece.”

“I can’t do that,” Jeremy muttered, “We’re not friends. I just met him.”

“H-he dies if I don’t g-give it up?” Matt spoke up.

“That’s correct, Axial,” Phantom answered, “Smart as they say, aren’t you?”

Matt held out the bag for him to take. 

“Open it,” Phantom ordered.

Matt unzipped the bag and revealed the piece inside. Phantom grinned and Matt zipped it back up for him to take which he did.

“Well then, business complete,” He proclaimed, “Here’s your pet.”

He pushed Haywood at Jeremy who caught him, struggling to keep him upright. As Phantom turned, Haywood’s head flopped to Jeremy’s shoulder.

“He thinks he roofied me,” he breathed in his ear, “Push me back.”

Jeremy did so, shoving his hands against Haywood’s chest and side stepping to block the path Phantom was headed for. Haywood tipped onto him and seized the man’s shirt, yanking. Phantom stumbled, dropped the bag, and knocked into Jeremy who immediately twisted his arm around his back. He reached for his cuffs.

“You have the right-“

He stopped. _No cuffs. No rights._ Phantom twisted in his hold at his second of hesitance. He turned as Jeremy scrambled to keep a hold of him. He smashed his mouth on Jeremy’s. Jeremy’s heart thundered in his chest as he stood frozen. He relaxed against his hold, suddenly feeling warm and dizzy. _What’s happening?_ Phantom pulled away from him.

“See you soon, lover,” he whispered.

Jeremy’s throat burned and he gasped as Phantom let go, letting him drop to his knees. 

“Well, bitch, you want this?” Phantom laughed, “Fetch!”

Jeremy couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see or speak. He toppled over as his body shook and burned. _Haywood. Is Haywood safe?_ He tried to roll to his stomach. _Haywood? Is he okay?_ Hands were suddenly on him and he relaxed. _Haywood’s okay. What is he...doing?_ Jeremy’s mouth was forced open and liquid poured into it. He swallowed as his blurry vision started to darken.

“Haywood?”

“I’m here, just hang on,” Haywood’s voice called, “You’re gonna be fine.”

Jeremy smiled as he faded.

“ _We’re_...gonna be...fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just throwing this out there: I didn’t base the poisons off real ones. They’re total cartoon villain poisons because I’m a whore for, well, everything. But especially cartoon villains.
> 
> @1stworldmutant for more gay sadness.


	10. Chapter 10

Jeremy nearly asphyxiated on his own vomit as he woke up. He was rescued from this fate by a firm hand shoving him to his side, pointing his face at a bucket of some sort. He shivered as he vomited, feeling weak and dizzy. 

“F-fuck! St-“

His body shuddered, interrupting him with more vomit.

“Stop! Stop!” He sobbed.

His body did _not_ listen to that. He puked until he couldn’t any more while a hand ran through his hair. When he finally stopped, he felt like he was freezing. He hated vomiting, it was the worst. He shivered, pulling the thin blanket tighter to himself. The hand left and he let out a pathetic sort of sound, weakly protesting its loss. A warm blanket was pulled over him and his shivering slowed until it disappeared while the hand returned to his hair. 

He finally processed it was Haywood’s hand and they were in a hospital. The memories of seeing Phantom at the con came rushing back into his head and he groaned. Haywood’s hand dropped as he sat up and rubbed his face tiredly.

“How long have I been out?” He grumbled.

“Few hours,” Haywood answered.

“And the piece?” He asked hesitantly.

“Taken,” Haywood grunted, “He ran away with it when I ran to grab the antidote.”

Jeremy sighed heavily. It was all his fault. If he hadn’t forgotten he wasn’t a cop any more like a fucking idiot, Phantom wouldn’t have gotten the opportunity toget the upper hand.

“Something has been bothering me,” Haywood muttered.

Jeremy looked up, immediately feeling worried and guilty. _Did I do something else wrong?_ Haywood was rubbing his forehead tiredly.

“If _we’re_ the star-crossed lovers,” he began, “Why would they risk killing us? Surely they realize they need to sacrifice us during the ritual.”

Jeremy hummed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“You’ve got a point...” he mumbled, “Maybe the poisons aren’t life-threatening? Maybe they’re just bluffs?”

“Well, they’re still figuring yours out,” Haywood answered, “But mine was definitely life-threatening.”

“Yeah, it’s just too risky,” Jeremy pointed out, “What if I hadn’t gotten there in time?”

“And he _threw_ your antidote,” Haywood added, “It could’ve broken or gotten completely lost. This doesn’t add up properly.”

Jeremy sighed, leaning forward and pressing his palms into his eyelids. Phantom’s behavior was too risky, too unexpected, too dangerous. Why would he go to the con, knowing Jeremy would be able to spot him? Why put poison on his lips like fucking Poison Ivy? Why talk to him at the party when he could’ve tortured Haywood and Jeremy would’ve just stood there like an idiot? He finally just shrugged.

“Phantom seems like a wild card,” he admitted, “I think he does whatever he wants, whatever strikes his fancy. It’s possible the others are totally unaware of his reckless actions. Where are my clothes?”

Haywood got up to retrieve them.

“I think you’re right about that,” He agreed as he handed over the bag, “It might just be because he’s attracted to you.”

He turned around as Jeremy started pulling his clothes out, blushing from Haywood’s comment.

“He _is_ very creepy,” He commented, “And he’s quite hostile towards you.”

He went to pulled on his jeans, but noticed something sticking out of his back pocket. _Business card, maybe?_ He plucked it free and groaned miserably.

“Got another card,” he grumbled.

Haywood turned around to see it, reaching out to take it. 

“It says “body rises”,” Jeremy relayed before handing it over, “So has he just been telling us the riddle thing from the Circles?”

He pulled his jeans on as Haywood frowned at the card.

“Oh, shit, this one has something on the back!” Jeremy exclaimed, “It says “sun and moon together always”, I think?”

Haywood flipped it over, his frown deepening. Jeremy carefully pulled out his IV and untied the hospital gown. 

“I think this is meant to be something else,” Haywood muttered thoughtfully, “I’ve seen this format before. Some older languages are often too generalized for modern use. We have more words than they did, so often an old word will be used to mean something else.”

Jeremy wiped the blood from his elbow on the gown as he considered what Haywood said.

“Okay, multiple meanings,” He muttered, “So you think this is a modern phrase translated into the old language?”

“Yes, please put your shirt on,” Haywood grunted, “You’re distracting me.”

Jeremy turned away from him to hide his burning face and grabbed his shirt from the bed.

“Nice ink,” Haywood commented.

Jeremy pulled his shirt down in a sharp motion.

“Shut up,” he grunted, embarrassed.

_Great, he saw my fucking tramp stamp._ He hopped on the bed to get his shoes and socks on while Haywood refocused on the card. 

“I think...it means “light and darkness are two sides of the same coin”,” He finally spoke up, “Or something to that effect. You can’t have one without the other, basically.”

Jeremy took the card back, looking at it thoughtfully. _Hm._

“It’s in different ink,” Haywood pointed out, “He wrote it _after_ the other one.”

Jeremy traced his fingers over the symbols. _Light and dark. What does it mean?_ His head throbbed and he grunted, grinding his palm against one of his temples. 

“I’ll be right back,” Haywood announced, before suddenly leaving.

Jeremy grimaced in pain once Haywood’s back was turned. He didn’t want to show how bad his head was throbbing right then. _For fucks sake, I vomited horrendously in front of him already, don’t need to show more of my bad sides._ He refocused on the card. Obviously Phantom was toying with them. Like an anime villain or something. Mortimer would probably like the guy’s flair for theatrics. 

Jeremy’s heart pounded in his chest as he recalled the man’s lips on his. Surprisingly soft, despite the urgency of the energy behind it. Electricity zapped up Jeremy’s spine and he felt suddenly dizzy.

“Dooley!” 

Jeremy jumped, startled by Haywood’s sudden shouting. He was holding out pain medicine and a can of Coke. Jeremy blushed, his stomach fluttering as he took the offered items. _He noticed I had a headache._ Jeremy’s heart squeezed as he took the Tylenol and started drinking the coke. Haywood sat beside him on the bed and Jeremy felt something bloom inside him, something that had been budding for a couple weeks. 

Haywood’s hand rested on the bed between them and Jeremy (not) very subtly put his hand next to it. He very carefully and slowly inched his hand over until their pinkies were touching. Haywood looked at him sharply and Jeremy hooked his pinky around Haywood’s, blushing. _Like a pinky promise._ He stared at his knees rather than try to make embarrassing eye contact with the man.

“D-Dooley, I-“

“I presume your guest is leaving now, Mr. Haywood?” A doctor interrupted from the door.

Their hands jerked away from each other and Jeremy turned away. _Fucking embarrassing!_ Haywood got up, talking with the doctor for a moment while Jeremy stared at the wall, drinking the rest of his Coke, contemplating how much of a loser he was. Haywood drove him home in silence after they checked out of the hospital. 

“Here are your keys,” Haywood passed them over, “Michael drove your car here for you.”

“Oh, th-thank you,” Jeremy muttered.

“Thank him,” Haywood grunted.

Jeremy cleared his throat nervously, hesitating. He wanted to say something, do something. Something in his guts was squeezing, pulling him towards Haywood. Haywood’s fingers tapped on the steering wheel. He looked like he also wanted to say something. He took a deep breath like he had to psych himself up for it and started to turn his head towards Jeremy.

“D-Dooley, I w-“

Jeremy interrupted him by kissing him, pressing their lips firmly together before pulling back to look in Haywood’s eyes.

“Call me Jeremy,” he whispered, “Okay, _Ryan?”_

“O-okay,” Ryan answered, _“J-Jeremy.”_

Jeremy kissed him again as his heart fluttered. Ryan’s lips parted and Jeremy obliged his silent invitation to deepen the kiss. Every fiber of Jeremy’s being pulled him towards Ryan, like the red string of fate times a hundred, yanking him forward to slam their souls together. Maybe there was something to this star-crossed lovers thing.

Jeremy froze and his eyes popped open. Ryan retreated to look at him in concern. 

“What? What’d you figure out?” He demanded, a bit breathless.

“Star-crossed lovers!” Jeremy nearly shouted, “They think it’s me and _Phantom!”_

“That’s why he hates me so much!” Ryan exclaimed, “He thinks I took what’s his. Or...he thinks you’re playing with me instead of paying attention to him, so he’s jealous?”

Jeremy shrugged.

“Who knows, man?” He snorted, “The guy is a lunatic.”

“Absolutely!” Ryan agreed, “I can’t believe any of them actually think this shit is real. There’s no evidence to suggest as such.”

“People are crazy,” Jeremy muttered, “All we can do is hope we can prevent them from carrying it out. The sacrifices, they’re...”

“Barbaric,” Ryan finished for him.

Jeremy looked at him carefully. He looked a bit pale, his eyes were darting around, but Jeremy could tell he wasn’t really seeing his surroundings. His hands tightened to fists on the steering wheel. _Vagabond did some pretty barbaric things himself,_ Jeremy thought. _Things Ryan is not proud of, things that scare him._

Jeremy reached out and carefully touched his hand. Ryan flinched and his hand let go of the wheel. Jeremy closed his hand around Ryan’s and pressed their palms together gently. He looked into Ryan’s eyes to see them searching him. The cold blue was darting all over him, looking for signs that Jeremy was going to attack him. Jeremy leaned down and kissed his hand. _It’s okay, Ryan. It’s okay._

Ryan was red-faced as Jeremy pulled away from him, though their hands stayed together. Ryan just stared at him a while, looking completely baffled. Jeremy eventually went pink as well, clearing his throat and retracting his hand. 

“I-I guess I sh-should go,” he mumbled, opening the door, “S-see you later, uh, _Ryan.”_

He stepped out, waving a bit awkwardly at Ryan who waved back.

“S-see you, _Jeremy,”_ he called quietly.

Jeremy’s knees were shaking, but he made it into his house. He slumped against the door as it closed and covered his mouth, hiding the wide grin on his face. _Oh, god, I’m so into him._ He ruffled his hair and tipped his head back against the door. _Fuck, I’m into the guy that ruined my life._ He puffed out a breathy laugh. _Who cares about that any more?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy and Ryan solving mysteries, now with more touching and almost-touching moments. :D
> 
> @1stworldmutant to find out how to keep me alive long enough to barf out more of this gay nonsense.


	11. Chapter 11

Ryan: _Would you be interested in helping me with a case tonight? I will be more than happy to split the reward with you._

Jeremy squinted at the text message. Case? What possible use would he be on a case? He didn’t have any expertise like Ryan. He shrugged. Maybe he just needed an extra pair of hands? 

To Ryan: _Sure._

Ryan: _I’ll pick you up in ten minutes. Wear casual clothes._

Jeremy smacked his forehead in frustration. _Couldn’t give me more than ten minutes of warning?!_ He was glad he’d already showered as he hurried to change out of pjs into proper clothes. His doorbell rang precisely ten minutes from Ryan’s message and Jeremy hurried to the door.

“Hey, beautiful,” Ryan greeted cheerfully, “I got you something.”

Jeremy didn’t have time to process this before Ryan was sweeping him into a kiss, holding him around his waist. Jeremy gripped at Ryan’s jacket for support as Ryan kissed him quite soundly. When he let go, he’d clipped a holster to Jeremy’s jeans. Jeremy tried to catch his breath as Ryan looked in his eyes, affection oozing from him. 

“F-fuck,” Jeremy grunted.

Ryan laughed and bumped their foreheads together before finally letting go. Jeremy realized now that he was actually in casual clothes himself. T-shirt, jeans, leather jacket. He looked amazing though. _Beautiful bastard._ Jeremy was stunned a moment and had to scurry after Ryan who was walking with purpose. To a motorcycle. A very nice one. 

“Jacket,” Ryan announced, handing it over.

Jeremy pulled on the leather jacket, surprised by how well it fit.

“Helmet,” Ryan informed him next before sliding it onto his head.

Jeremy felt dizzy as Ryan strapped the thing to his head. Once he got it on, he flipped up the visor to look at him.

“Fit okay?” He prompted.

“Perfect fit,” Jeremy answered.

Ryan grinned and put the visor back down. He put on his own helmet and they were off. Jeremy grinned as they rode. It’s been awhile since he’d rode a motorcycle. His own was currently in need of repair in his garage. Well, in need of scrapping, really. The thing was ancient.

He watched the world blur around him as they rode until everything become a streak of colors. Only they existed, there on the bike. Jeremy’s top heavy head laid against Ryan’s upper back and his whole body pressed up against him. Jeremy wished he could stay in that moment forever. Wished the world turned into a smear of paint in the background while red string tugged his soul against Ryan’s.

Unfortunately, that was not how it worked. They eventually stopped outside a dive that reeked of bad booze and worse decisions. They they hopped off and stowed their helmets. Jeremy ran a hand through his hair, hoping it looked purposely ruffled. 

“You’re Red, if anyone asks,” Ryan informed him, “Try not to talk to anyone, but don’t ignore someone if they talk to you.”

He paused, looking him up and down then ruffled his hair, messing it up. 

“Am I eye candy again?” Jeremy grumbled.

“Yes, you’re a distraction,” Ryan muttered, looking over him still.

Jeremy blushed a bit, but psyched himself into stripper mode. _This is what expertise I have, I guess._ Ryan suddenly tucked his shirt into the front of his pants. Then he undid his belt which of course gave Jeremy a boner. He flushed, struggling to focus on the task rather than on how fucking horny he was. Ryan’s gloved hand brushed over his cheek.

“You should kiss me,” Jeremy suggested, breathless, “Redden my lips.”

For the cover, obviously. Not because Jeremy was thirsty as fuck.

“No, bite them,” Ryan instructed, pulling away, “And push your pants down a bit.”

Jeremy frowned at him, as he turned away, but followed the instructions.

“So am I sweet or sour?” Jeremy asked, half unbuttoning his jeans.

“Sweet,” Ryan answered, “Inviting.”

He gestured for Jeremy to follow, which he did, putting a spring in his step. When they entered, his view and the view of him was mostly blocked by Ryan’s form. They paused as Ryan’s eyes swept the place and Jeremy poked his head out around his elbow. No one stood out to him, but he didn’t know what he was looking for. 

Ryan turned, revealing him better to the room. Jeremy looked up at him with a grin. Ryan grunted and gripped the jacket by by the shoulder and dragged him to the bar.

“Stay,” Ryan ordered.

“Yessir!” Jeremy giggled, firing off a mock salute.

Jeremy let the jacket fall down his shoulder a bit as Ryan let go of it. Ryan rolled his eyes and moved away. Jeremy bounced at the bar before leaning against it. The bartender moved in front of him and grinned at him. 

“Well, what do we have here?” They mused, “A pretty little treat has washed up on our shores.”

Jeremy batted his eyelashes and smiled shyly.

“You think I’m pretty?” He cooed.

“Prettiest customer I’ve had in awhile,” the bartender assured him, smirking, “What can I get you darlin’?”

“Tequila!” Jeremy answered brightly, bouncing a bit.

The bartender laughed as they poured him a shot. 

“Red!” Ryan’s voice snapped across the dive.

Jeremy whined and turned. Ryan gestured him over and he took the shot over. He shot it as he pulled up to the corner table and put the glass upside-down on it. He giggled and waved at the man across from Ryan. He was a bit older, with some silver in his raven hair, but handsome with golden skin and eyes like caramel. Not the worst man to be ogled by. Though he looked quite somber. 

“Well, hello there,” He cooed at the man, “What is your name?”

Ryan gripped his wrist tightly and Jeremy grumbled, tugging weakly.

“Don’t bother Mr. Matthews!” Ryan hissed, “Just sit down and stay out of trouble!”

Jeremy harrumphed and rubbed his wrist as he sat down. Matthews watched him sit before turning back to Ryan. 

“Sorry about my...acquaintance,” Ryan muttered, “I’m watching him for my employer. He can be a handful.”

Jeremy grumbled under his breath, huffing and Matthews’ eyes were drawn to him again.

“Not at all,” Matthews assured him, “Youth can be quite refreshing. Tell me, what’s your name?”

Jeremy brightened up and opened his mouth to speak.

“As I said, it’s Red,” Ryan cut in before he could.

Matthews didn’t look away from Jeremy who scowled at Ryan.

“I was asking _him,_ Mr. King,” he replied coolly.

Jeremy grinned at him.

“I’m Red,” he spoke up cheerfully, “What should I call you?”

“You can call me Ryker,” the man answered, smiling pleasantly, “Tell me, Red, how is it someone so beautiful ended up in the company of Mr. King?”

Jeremy giggled, again opening his mouth to answer and getting interrupted by Ryan.

“He’s a fam-“

“Mr. King,” Matthews interrupted, throwing Ryan a cold look, “I was speaking with your acquaintance.”

He turned back to Jeremy who smiled shyly.

“He works for my uncle,” Jeremy supplied, “Uncle Jay said I could go out and have fun if I stayed with him.”

He threw an annoyed look at Ryan.

“But he’s no fun at all,” he grumbled.

He turned back to Matthews, brightening up.

“What about you?” He asked brightly.

Matthews smiled at him and over the course of the next hour essentially told him everything about his life and business. Jeremy’s chair also scooted closer and closer to him. Then, when Ryan got up to use the restroom, Matthews leaned towards him.

“How about you come sit on my lap, darling?” He suggested, “Since you want to so bad.”

Jeremy smiled sheepishly and slid onto his lap. Matthews put an arm around his waist and Jeremy giggled, covering his mouth shyly. Matthews slid a hand up his outer thigh and Jeremy put his arms around his shoulders.

“Are you having fun now?” Matthews teased.

“Most fun I’ve had in awhile,” Jeremy assured him.

Matthews’ hand was suddenly yanked off his thigh, ripped back and bent painfully, drawing a grunt from him. 

“That does _not_ belong to you,” Ryan growled, “Hands off before I break something.”

Matthews let go of Jeremy’s waist.

“Get up, _now,”_ Ryan snarled at Jeremy.

Jeremy hopped up.

“K-King, don’t-“ 

“Shut your mouth,” Ryan snapped.

He let go of Matthews to grab Jeremy’s jacket by the shoulder again. He dragged him from the place to the bike, shoved his helmet at him, and drove them back to Jeremy’s place. Then, before even bothering to take their helmets off, he once again dragged Jeremy by the shoulder of his jacket into his own house. 

“Um, Ry?” Jeremy mumbled as he took the helmet off, “A-are y-“

Ryan dropped his own helmet on the floor and shoved Jeremy against his closed front door, kissing him deeply. Jeremy dropped the helmet and gripped Ryan’s jacket to haul him closer. Ryan’s hips shoved against his and he gasped. Ryan made a growling sort of noise and grabbed his face, shoving it aside to bite at his neck.

“You just can’t fucking help it,” he growled in Jeremy’s ear, “Can you? You’re just oozing sex. Everyone wants a piece of you. I’m never going to keep up. You’re so fucking young and hot.“

Jeremy shuddered and Ryan’s hand slammed against the door next to his head. 

“I...I can...” he whispered, voice weak, “I-I can make you f-feel good...pl-please, j-just let me...”

He trailed off and Jeremy swallowed thickly. 

“R-Ryan, I-“ he started.

Ryan pulled away from him suddenly, yanking him off the door and flinging it open. 

“W-wait, Ryan!” Jeremy called as Ryan fled his house, “Ry, _wait!_ F-fuck, at least take your helmet!”

He scooped it off the floor and Ryan didn’t look back as he took it. 

“I...can’t do this,” he muttered.

Jeremy’s heart sank.

“O-okay,” he mumbled, “I...I’m, um, I-I...I wasn’t...going to...with him...I j-just wanted to-“

“I’m not mad,” Ryan interrupted quietly.

Then he pulled his helmet on and went to his bike. He paused after turning it on and Jeremy was sure he looked at him, even though his head didn’t turn and he couldn’t see his eyes through the helmet. He could feel the frigid stare, could see the shade of blue in his mind, looking right at that red string as he sliced through it, severing his tie to Jeremy. The bike zipped away, roaring down his street while Jeremy watched him go. When he couldn’t hear it any more, he closed his door and let his head drop against it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mayle’s writing bingo, mark off: Ryan is a stunted baby who can’t express his emotions. :D  
> Before you even ask: Ryker is an OC!
> 
> Don’t forget to @1stworldmutant or you’ll hurt my feelings. D:


	12. Chapter 12

Jeremy was nervous. Ryan would be ringing his doorbell any minute. The new moon had finally come around and even with the carefully thought out plan he was nervous. He’d been texting Ryan almost nonstop the entire week following the Thing We Don’t Talk About and he was pretty sure the man had to hate him by now. He couldn’t help it, he’d been texting a lot of people, because he was so nervous.

It was his first case since his official firing, there were lives at risk, and...well, Ryan Haywood. He would be blatantly lying if he said he didn’t want to impress him. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel unnerved by the fact they’d nearly fucked a million times now. Most especially he’d be lying if he said he didn’t still want something with him. 

_Ding ding!_

“Hello!” They nearly shouted at each other as soon as the door opened.

“R-ready?” Ryan asked, clearing his throat.

“Yes!” Jeremy answered, “T-totally ready!”

Ryan smiled softly at him and gestured for him to follow him to his car. Jeremy fidgeted with his flashlight as they started towards Mount Chiliad. _Relax. You got this. Ryan’s with you, you won’t fail._ He puffed out a sigh. That did actually relax him a bit. They worked well together and Ryan was better than him in most regards, so he could pick up slack if need be.

“I totally forgot to ask,” Ryan suddenly spoke up a few minutes in, “Did you get the money yesterday?”

“Oh, yes, I got it,” Jeremy assured him, “I meant to ask, are all your cases so well paid?”

“What do you mean?” Ryan asked, confused, “Twenty isn’t that high.”

“Well, that’s 40k if you add the halves,” Jeremy pointed out, “Seems like a lot. I guess I don’t know the case, but 40 seems like a lot.”

Ryan was quiet a moment.

“It...wasn’t 40,” he finally muttered, “It was twenty.”

Jeremy looked at him sharply.

“You gave it all to me?!” He demanded, “Why the hell would you do that?!”

“Because you did a lot of the work,” Ryan admitted, shrugging, “I asked you to be eye candy and you did it with no problem. But you were just meant to distract him enough to get him to loosen up to _me._ When the plan changed, you got all the information from him while I just sat there. Then you let him put his hands on you even though you knew he had to be an unsavory type. All so I could complete a case that you had no idea the reward for. You deserved the entirety of the reward. If I got paid anything, it would’ve been a commission at best. And I only charge 10% on commission.” 

Jeremy was stunned into silence, going pink. 

“Besides, I don’t do it for the money,” Ryan added.

“Why do you?” Jeremy prompted, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Ryan glanced at him with another soft smile.

“I do it to keep my brain sharp,” he answered, “And my hands occupied.”

“That’s a hell of a hobby,” Jeremy joked, “Couldn’t pick up watercolors?”

“Ha! I’m not very creative,” Ryan scoffed.

Jeremy wanted to slap him. _Not that creative. How dare you?! That painting is beautiful!_

“I guess it’s helpful to have a hobby that actually makes money,” He laughed, “I mean, you may not do it for the money, but it’s gotta be a bonus, right?”

“Yeah, I guess there’s some upsides,” Ryan agreed, chuckling, “What’s your hobby then?”

“Trying to solve cold cases,” Jeremy replied easily.

“Oh boy,” Ryan snorted, “You really are a pig, aren’t you?”

“Not any more,” Jeremy grumbled, “But I’ll admit my brain hasn’t switched completely. I mean, it’s my first case, so I’m sure it’ll come with more.”

“This is your first case?” Ryan pressed.

“Yes, I’m sort of glad I ended up needing you for it,” Jeremy confessed, “I’m actually kinda nervous.”

“Kinda?” Ryan teased.

Jeremy smacked his arm.

“Okay, I’m _really_ nervous,” he corrected, “I’m glad I don’t have to go it alone on my first try.”

They went quiet again. It wasn’t necessarily awkward, but Jeremy found himself wanting to speak anyway. He liked Ryan, liked talking to him. He’d never really clicked with anyone as well before. As they reached Chiliad, Ryan finally spoke up again.

“Jeremy...there’s this other case I’m working on,” he mumbled, “I was hoping maybe after this one, you could help me out. Pl-please?”

Jeremy’s heart pounded in his chest.

“Uh, y-yes, I’d like that,” Jeremy answered, “I mean, what are f-friends for?”

He cleared his throat and shifted nervously.

“We’re...friends?” Ryan asked, quietly.

They glanced at each other and blushed, looking away sharply.

“Y-yeah, aren’t we?” Jeremy prompted, fidgeting with his flashlight again.

“Oh, uh...y-yes,” Ryan confirmed, “I mean, I want to be.”

“Then we are,” Jeremy chuckled nervously.

They went quiet again, both pink in the face as they made their way up the mountain. They ditched the car to walk up to their guess of the ritual site, flashlights pointed at the ground. Jeremy breathed in the cool, crisp air and felt his nerves relax a bit. He looked up at the sky as they walked and wondered how the Creator people managed these rituals on dark nights. Didn’t seem like fire could light the path enough. _Maybe they just had lots of fire. Very thought out theory, Dooley._

To further cement his stupidity, he tripped.

“Fuck my ass!” He grunted as he landed.

“I don’t think this is the time, Jeremy,” Ryan deadpanned.

Jeremy snorted in laughter and rolled onto his back to shine his flashlight at Ryan. Ryan shined his back, grinning.

“You do look great down there, though,” he laughed.

“Yeah, I’m sure a dirty fuck on the mountain is _real_ appealing,” Jeremy grumbled.

Ryan’s flashlight beam tracked down his body and his head tilted like he was considering. Jeremy kicked his foot as he got up and Ryan laughed.

“I will karate chop you,” Jeremy muttered, brushing dirt off himself.

“I’m into it,” Ryan joked.

Jeremy snorted and they joked back and forth as they made their way to the site. 

“This is definitely it,” Jeremy muttered as they reached it, “Plenty of room and there’s the California Lilacs. But there’s plenty of tree coverage to hide them from the path. Where should we set up?”

“Over there, we can sit in that tree,” Ryan suggested, pointing his flashlight at said tree.

Jeremy put his flashlight in his mouth and boosted up the tree, launching off the trunk to grab one branch. He pulled himself up and did a handstand. He hooked his ankles around the branch above and pulled himself up, spinning to plant his ass on it. He shifted backwards, putting his back to the trunk. He looked down at Ryan, surprised to see him still on the ground. He spat his flashlight out.

“What’re you doing?” He called, “Get up here before the lunatics show up.”

Ryan just stared up at him a moment. Jeremy flashed his flashlight in his face.

“You coming up or what, dork?” He grunted.

Ryan put his flashlight away and jumped up to the first branch. _Tall asshole._ Once he got to the same branch as Jeremy, he hopped to a nearby one and settled in.

“You’re amazing,” he huffed, “Where’d you learn to do that?”

“Do what?” Jeremy asked, distracted by shifting into a more comfortable position. 

“Gymnastics,” Ryan grunted, “Are you stupid?”

Jeremy flipped him off, blushing.

“Uh...I’m...short,” he muttered, “I had to...find other ways.”

“You should climb me like that some time,” Ryan suggested.

Jeremy leaned over and smacked his arm.

“Asshole,” He hissed, “I would actually have to climb you, you fucking giant bastard.”

They spent the next hour and a half throwing insults and bits of the tree at each other. Finally they heard another vehicle approaching and went quiet. Several people entered the clearing, bringing in and setting up lights. Then they carried in a few large crates and began piecing together the Carver’s Circle. It was a quicker process than Jeremy had expected as there were more people than they’d guessed.

He nervously glanced at Ryan, but couldn’t see him very well in the dark. He could see him enough to know he was doing the same. This did not inspire confidence. Jeremy counted ten of them setting up the Circle and another five showed up with the other supplies needed, including the bowl for the blood. Three of them were needed for it and Jeremy had to stop himself from clearing his throat nervously. He carefully got his phone out and texted Burns, hoping he’d be prepared to come early. He was supposed to text him only when he saw all of them, but that was before they knew there’d be so many.

The third vehicle to show up was carrying the bosses, if the body language of the fifteen grunts was anything to go off of. They all stood a bit straighter and put a little more hustle into the preparation. Jeremy’s spider sense started tingling as he heard the vehicle parking. _He’s here._ A group of six came into the clearing and as Jeremy realized none of them were Phantom, Ryan stiffened next to him. He pulled his gun and Jeremy was only a second behind him, aiming in the opposite direction.

“Hello, lover,” Phantom called sweetly.

He jumped from one tree into one that was close enough to the light for Jeremy to see his face. Jeremy’s face flushed, eyes drawn immediately to his lips. They spread into a wide, sickly sweet smile and Jeremy felt vomit in the back of his throat. Phantom pointed a gun at him and Jeremy swallowed.

“Y-you can’t kill me,” he pointed out, trying to force confidence into his shaky voice.

“Oh, darling!” Phantom cooed, “Of course I won’t kill you.”

He winked, before his face twisted in anger.

“The bitch on the other hand,” he growled, “Well, my associate over there will drop him like high school French if you don’t come quietly.”

_Yeah, I was afraid of that._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy/Ryan: ur awesome  
> Ryan/Jeremy: no u  
> Jeremy/Ryan: D:
> 
> @1stworldmutant for more bullshit


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: non-con kiss, cutting/blood

“Detective Dooley, so good of you to come early,” Mrs. Clark greeted.

Jeremy rolled his eyes.

“It’s just Dooley now,” He corrected, “I’m so flattered you assumed I’d find you.”

The Clarks and the others began moving about, getting everything in proper position. Phantom sidled up to him with a grin.

“Hey, you _are_ my star-crossed,” He piped up, “You would’ve found me.”

“That’s not real,” Jeremy growled, _“Destiny_ is not real. You know what is? Murdering people! A homicide charge. Life in prison. You’re all accomplices to murder and you will be spending your lives in prison.”

“Oh, darling,” Phantom cooed, “The police won’t be a problem after the ritual.”

He bumped his shoulder against Jeremy’s with a wink. 

“Aren’t you excited?” He exclaimed, “You’re about to become one with your fated love! Isn’t that-“

_“I! Do! Not! Love! You!”_ Jeremy shouted, “I don’t even know your real name!”

Phantom frowned.

“Come now, lover,” he scolded, “You should’ve figured it out by now!”

“How could I possibly?!” Jeremy demanded, starting to feel hysterical, “We’ve talked like twice! One of which times you tried to fucking _poison_ me!”

“We’ve spoken non-verbally,” Phantom insisted, grin back on his face.

Jeremy scowled at him.

“The cards? They just had the-“ he stopped.

_They had the riddle, mostly, but what was at the end of each message?_

“Ray.”

Jeremy’s heart fluttered in his chest. _Ray Ray Ray._ The name reverberated in his skull.

“Oooh! I got chills!” Ray laughed.

He held up his arm to show Jeremy, but he didn’t need to look to know they were there. He had them too. Suddenly he was dizzy and warm. Ray leaned closer to him and he recoiled, straining against the person holding him.

“Stay the fuck away from him!” Ryan screamed across the clearing.

He was fighting the restraints they put on him. The chain jangled as he tried to rip it from the tree they’d shackled him to. Ray’s face twisted into a scowl and he seized Jeremy’s chin, shoving his mouth against his. Jeremy felt dazed, warm. He opened his mouth against Ray’s. Ray eagerly pressed closer to him, hand moving to hold his jaw. As his tongue slipped into Jeremy’s mouth, his jaw snapped closed on it like a bear trap with a feral growl from deep in Jeremy’s throat. Ray pulled back with a shout.

“You activated my trap card,” Jeremy sneered.

That got him a fist to the face that knocked a tooth loose. He spat blood and opened his mouth to deliver a harsh comment, but was interrupted.

_ Crack! _

The tree Ryan was attached to actually cracked, followed by a long groan as it strained against the force of Ryan’s rage. He was spitting out insults and death threats until Ray stormed over and shoved a bit gag in his mouth.

“Shut the hell up, bitch!” He hissed, “The adults are speaking.”

He backhanded Ryan and Jeremy winced. 

“You see now why I had so much trouble with these idiots?!” Ray grunted at the Clarks.

He stomped back to Jeremy.

“And that was _your_ gag for the pain,” he huffed at him, “So be ready to scream like a little bitch.”

“God, I hate you,” Jeremy growled.

“I tried being nice!” Ray hissed at him, “You decided to be bitchy about it! You’re stuck with me, dumbass!”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. There was no point in trying to tell him this was not real, that they were probably just going to die. 

“Places please, everyone!” Mrs. Clark called, “It’s time!”

Jeremy was pushed forward towards the Circle and (more concerning) the bowl on top of it. He tried to plant his feet, but Ray grabbed his face and pointed it towards where Ryan was restrained. Someone had a gun pointed at him. Jeremy stumbled forward, tears of frustration in his eyes. He didn’t want to die, but he didn’t want Ryan to die even more. _Burns, for the love of fuck, please be on the way!_

He was hauled up into the bowl and Ray hopped in after him. The cuffs behind his back made it too risky for him to try anything, so he just stood there, squeezing his eyes closed. He could feel them arranging the ingredients around his feet before a knife ripped open his shirt. He opened his eyes to look at Ray, tears of anger and fear burning down his face. 

Ray ignored him, placing a crown of herds and flowers on his head and then a similar on his own. He unzipped his hoodie, revealing his own bare chest. Some of the others were speaking and moving, but Jeremy just focused on Ray who put another bit gag on himself before stepping close to Jeremy. There was a pause as he apparently waited for something to get done, then he pressed the knife to Jeremy’s skin. Jeremy squeezed his eyes closed as the knife cut half of the symbol for the homunculus onto his chest. It burned and stung and his blood oozed out, but this was not the horrid pain he was supposed to endure. 

After the knife pulled away, he watched Ray cut the other half in his own chest. Jeremy thought he could see faint scars under where the knife cut. _Guiding lines. He practiced the cuts._ Jeremy’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest. There was another pause that lasted longer than the lunatics were expecting.

“Why isn’t it working?” One of them hissed.

Ray spat the gag from his mouth.

“Mother, what’s wrong?” He called, looking worried.

Jeremy turned to see Mrs. Clark with her hands over her eyes.

“The star-crossed have been severed,” she groaned, sounding like she was in pain, “The one of blood has formed a new bond.”

Jeremy frowned. _What the fuck does that mean?!_

“What do you mean he formed a new bond?!” Ray shrieked at her.

Jeremy looked back and forth between them. _Me?_ She dropped her hands to look at Jeremy. Jeremy did not like the accusation look on her face. 

“You, who have you soul-bonded with?!” She demanded.

Jeremy didn’t do it on purpose. He _really_ wasn’t trying to. And he knew as soon as it happened, he would never forgive himself. But it happened anyway: his eyes darted to Ryan. She turned to Ryan and immediately began barking orders to get him into Ray’s position. Ray put up a bit of fuss, but eventually cut his half of the symbol into Ryan’s chest and stepped out. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Jeremy whispered, crying, “I-I didn’t m-mean to!”

Ryan tried to smile around the gag. _It’s okay,_ he communicated through his beautiful blue eyes. Jeremy opened his mouth to insist it really wasn’t when fire erupted in his blood. He screamed as it bloomed from the wounds on his chest and he could hear the sounds of Ryan screaming around the gag. They were forced forward, chests bumping as they burned from the inside out. 

Then, it was gone and Jeremy felt his body fall backwards.

_ Ryan! _

~

“Let go of me!” Ryan’s voice suddenly shouted through Jeremy’s unconscious brain.

“Ryan!” Jeremy called weakly before he fully woke up.

“Jeremy!” Ryan called back, “I’m here!”

Jeremy struggled, trying to sit up. He couldn’t, he was restrained. Jeremy forced his eyes open as Ryan’s hand squeezed his. 

“Jeremy, I’m here,” He repeated, I’ve got you.”

Jeremy’s head lolled towards him and he smiled. Ryan’s eyes were filled with worry and tears, but he brightened at Jeremy’s smile. He leaned forward and bumped their heads together, cupping his cheek gently. 

“Can I be freed now?” Jeremy muttered, “I’d like to hug you.”

Ryan quickly pulled back to untie him, then climbed into the bed with him. They both winced as their chests pressed together, the wounds pulsing hot pain. But it was normal pain. Nothing like what they’d felt in the bowl.

“Ry...th-the ritual...” Jeremy whispered, “Was...was it... _working?”_

“No, it couldn’t have,” Ryan answered, though he didn’t sound _that_ confident, “It had to have been one of the ingredients or something in the air.”

Jeremy shuddered and shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly, “It...felt real.”

Ryan squeezed him closer, tucking Jeremy’s head under his chin.

“I’m sure there’s a logical explanation,” he insisted, sounding more confident now, “There was a lot of stuff to stress us out.”

Jeremy relaxed a bit, but he was almost certain something spooky had been happening. And something else squeezed in his chest. A realization of something he shouldn’t know.

“Did the police...get everyone?” He muttered.

He knew the answer before Ryan gave it.

“No, Phantom got away.”

Jeremy sighed heavily. Maybe it was Ray’s insistence on the star-crossed thing that was convincing him something weird was happening. Some sort of psychological reaction to the suggestion. The human mind was quite amazing when it came to belief.

“Jeremy?” Ryan called softly.

“Yes?”

“I lied...” he confessed, “I didn’t have a case ready to work on with you. I just wanted to work with you again.”

Jeremy could feel Ryan’s heart thumping against his chest nearly as frantically as his own.

“Okay,” Jeremy answered, “I want to work with you too.”

Ryan puffed out a sigh of relief. 

“Let’s not get matching scars next time though,” Jeremy suggested.

Ryan’s raspy laugh relaxed him further and he laughed with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they all lived happily ever after! :D Stars to dust, may your path stay lit, little stars! ✨
> 
> @1stworldmutant to make suggestions for new prompts!


End file.
